Altered Carbon
by sarahstalcup
Summary: I can't ever love again, not since then. I won't let you hurt me, too. Please, leave me alone.../KankuroxOC, rated for language. May go up in later chapters. EDIT: Many older chapters have been updated with page breaks to make for easier reading!
1. Waste

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Naruto characters. They belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated

**Altered Carbon-**chapter one

Sand.

So much sand.

Too much of it.

Everywhere he looked, it was the same, mundane expanse of timeless golden granules. He couldn't escape it, couldn't rid himself of it, no matter how hard he tried or how much he wanted to. Closing his eyes did nothing, for the image of the vast, white seas were burned into his mind; the very idea of it could be seen from behind tightly shut lids.

He breathed in deeply, throat parched as always, and then snorted immediately afterwards as several tiny specks of silicon and rock shot up his flared nostrils.

It was all starting to get to him, a deep, embittered hatred for this place that had been broiling for 19 years now and was finally threatening to bubble over and spill across the floor.

Things were never gentle or peaceful or serene here. By day the entire country was at the whims of the blazing sun, that eternal light in the sky that bombarded all that lay below it, burned skin and ruined crops. But things were no better at night, when the icy moon and still air allowed the temperature to perilously plummet into a deathly chill. Never were there calming rains or springtime showers, only wild and violent sandstorms and brutal lightning. The air was never filled with the mingling scents of flowers or of the river as the wicked heat obliterated all of the blossoms and dried up any lakes or ponds.

But there would always be the sand, the mountains, valleys, fields and streams of sand.

Never-ending and omnipotent.

Standing on the high tower of the Kazekage Mansion, the young man continued his scheduled watch over Sunagakure, the village hidden in the sand. It was time to leave his post, but for some reason his replacement for tonight was late. He didn't want to stand here a moment longer then he was required to, but then again, he was even more disinclined to directly disobey the Kazekage. This place had seen enough of war and betrayal; it didn't need anymore disturbances. It was one of his many duties to safeguard all of the mansion's entrances for stalking figures or unsavory foreigners, anyone who would want to stick an assassin's blade into the village leader's throat.

_Not like he can't keep an eye out for himself…_ the man grumbled, glancing at the quickly setting sun, tapping one his sandaled feet impatiently. He thought of the Kazekage's strength in battle, those cool, cold eyes that could pin the strongest of shinobi with their paralyzing influence. There really wasn't any need to protect Gaara. Even without the Shukaku embedded in his body anymore, the young leader was still as potent and at times cruel. He would not hesitate in drawing blood if it guaranteed the protection of his people and his village.

It was amazing to think how much the red-haired boy had changed. So many years ago, Gaara had just been some punk, screwed-up kid with enough emotional instability to incapacitate an entire small country. There was little that could whet his appetite for blood and death back then, only the sight of someone dying by his own two hands, the sickly sweet sensation of a man's ribs cracking, organs being punctured.

But now things were different. "Caring" was probably too strong of a word, but at least now the Kazekage was more emotional and responsive to the feelings of those around him, enough to exhibit clear signs of distress and worry when the situation called for it. He wasn't just some vessel for the Shukaku, some failed experiment that his own father had tried to exterminate. This much was clear just by looking in those misty blue eyes tinged with green.

_Uzumaki Naruto…you've done more for this village than you could ever imagine…_ the shinobi contemplated, thinking about that exuberant, annoying yellow-haired brat that dreamed of becoming the next Hokage. While the boy exuded talent and the drive to outshine all those around him, there was no doubting that the Konoha shinobi still lacked the assertiveness and subtle elegance required of a massively influential shinobi politician.

_Still, it will be an interesting day when both of you are wearing the Kage's robes…_

Even with so much change and revolution, it was amazing how immobile the world still felt. Sure, new leaders were now taking their positions while their elders prepared for retirement. And of course, the threats of several nefarious foes were now at rest, paving the way for a more peaceful coexistence between the usually prickly and disconcerted nations.

But still, the young man could never shake that biting feeling that at least for him and perhaps for no one else, life as he knew it was at a festering standstill.

He was still just a jonin, still living here, still pulling stupid missions day in and day out.

Sighing, wondering where in the hell his relief was, he reached deep in the pockets of his black pants, fingers idly searching for a little cardboard box. He closed his hand around something and with a satisfied smirk, he pulled out the carton of cigarettes, half empty even though it had just been purchased that same afternoon.

Without thinking, the exhausted shinobi pulled one of the nicotine sticks out and placed it unceremoniously between his dry, blistered lips, the purple paint on his face slightly smudged from the unforgiving heat. Fire pulsated weakly from his cheap, plastic lighter as he struggled to light the cigarette in the active breeze of the evening, cupping his one hand to shield it from the wind and then cursing slightly when he accidentally burned himself.

_Wait until the wind dies down, you dumb ass,_ shaking his sore fingers in the air, he checked to make sure no one had seen his folly before trying again. This time he successfully managed to ignite the cigarette's tip, the cherry-top glowing brightly like his own personal firefly.

He inhaled deeply, his feral eyes squinting and becoming teary and wet as the smoke wafted into them. Holding back a gagging cough that rattled deep in his lungs, the young man let out a massive puff of carcinogenic air. Slowly his nerves began to unwind as the nicotine filtered into his bloodstream, soothed that aching craving that had been gnawing at him for what had felt like hours.

After a few more puffs, the shinobi looked at the stick of wrapped paper and tobacco held delicately in his fingers. His eyes slanted suddenly as a rush of either anger or regret flooded into his brain, causing him to fling the half-smoked cigarette over the adobe ledge of the mansion's rooftop. A twisted part of him hoped it landed in someone's hair so that he didn't have to suffer alone and he snickered a little at the thought of seeing a random person's head catching on fire.

Mouth opening in a carnivorous yawn, the boy craned his next back to see the little lights of the sky starting to glow. For a second he basked in their ephemeral beauty before his mind returned to reality as another phlegm-induced cough hitched itself in the back of his throat.

Why had he started this sad habit, this loving and loathing? It wasn't just cigarettes…he'd done worse to himself, so many things that even he couldn't quite explain. The cause hadn't been a single event, but rather a string of them, one leading into the next, denting him, hurting him, until finally…

_I guess I can't blame her…_ the shinobi grimaced as he considered lighting up another cigarette, his hands already moving to his pocket again while his thoughts meandered into the past.

The sky had been so beautiful, the air so warm. Back then, he had thought nothing could ruin that day. Everything had been going so perfectly. And then…then…

"You _really_ should try to stop that, you know."

The boy turned towards the source of the rather impetuous vice, a second cancer-stick dangling in his lips.

It wasn't like the adults to shove their "words of wisdom" down his throat, telling him to stop or at least cut back. They didn't care, as long as he did his job, completed his missions. He was a ninja, and as such he was expected to take a few hits. Was it really all that different if the damage dealt to his body was self-inflicted?

There were few who cared enough to try and stop his habit.

"You smell like shit every time you come over," the boy growled as a blond-headed kunoichi approached him slowly, hands crossed in front of her arrogantly. Try as she might, the girl could not hide her concern under any amount of hot-headedness.

She was soon only a few feet away, and in the waning light, he could barely make out those four tell-tale pigtails sprouting from the back of her head. However, there was more then enough illumination to see the scowl of disapproval plastered on the girl's face, a look that the boy resented very much.

"Screw you, Temari. Besides, I don't think you have any room to bitch…you're nearly fifteen minutes late!" casually lighting up the cigarette much to the older girl's detest, the young boy started to stroll away from his post, grabbing a large object bound in bandages on his way and slinging it over his shoulder nonchalantly. On nights when he had to pull sentry duty, Kankuro more then often only carried one of his puppets with him, instead of all three.

Temari made a snarling noise under her breath. With a devilish smirk, her younger sibling suddenly felt the urge to push the kunoichi's buttons just a tad more. She pierced him with a dangerous gaze from her icy eyes as he opened his lips to speak.

"What, is that lover-boy of yours in town, _again_?"

He took another puff as he awaited the girl's response, blowing a cloud of smoke treacherously close to the girl's face. He was certain that whatever she was going to say or do would be most volatile. There wasn't a single girl in the world who could bitch like Temari could. When angered, none of her wrath was spared, not even to her own brother.

"Kankuro, don't be such a bastard..." fighting to keep her cool, Temari realized that the older of her younger brothers was testing her. It was a common occurrence to say the least, ordinary around siblings, but lately she had noticed that her brother's acidic nature was becoming increasingly more pungent. There was more to his frequent ill temper than a simple addiction to smoking. She had seen him cursing to himself and punching walls until the knuckles on his gloves were worn through. His favorite weapon, Karasu, wasn't even getting his full attention, and had fallen into a slight state of disrepair.

"I remember when you were happy for me and Shikamaru…"

For a moment, the younger sibling thought he could detect a flicker of sorrow in his sister's words, see a flash of something besides frustration run across her normally sour face. There was a kind soul in there, somewhere, but the years had done much to cause Temari to hide her soft affections underneath a veneer of austerity, reserving her better self for either her only living relatives or her beloved Konoha shadow-wielder.

The years had done much to them all, indeed.

Looking back at his sister, still breathing in the heavy fumes of his cigarette, Kankuro realized that he wasn't going to get a fight out of her tonight.

"Look, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…" he started, unused to apologizing but still trying to put up a brave front. Shoving his hands into his pockets undecidedly, the boy continued softly, "I know you're worried about me…but you can't always mother me like this. I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm not your baby brother now."

"I know, but the least you can do is appreciate my concern, not scorn me for it," Temari replied coolly, eying the belligerent young man carefully, looking past his kabuki face-paint and cat-eared hood to see her brother for what he was: a ball of anger that was longing for an early death.

"You know, Gaara doesn't like it any more than I do-"

"But he doesn't lecture me about it all the time, Temari!" the boy shot back irritably, shocking the kunoichi enough to cause her to gasp. Turning away from his sister, Kankuro stormed away from his watch-spot, discarding his cigarette onto the baked-mud floor of the tower.

Alternating her gaze from the still smoldering tube of paper-bound tobacco to the backside of the brooding young man walking away from her, Temari instantly regretted their entire conversation.

"What a waste."

((A/N: Well, this is just the start…as you can tell, this takes place a few years after the time jump. I hope that you enjoyed this! I'll hopefully have more chapters soon enough. Please review if you get the chance!))


	2. Every little thing

Disclaimer: As much as I want to, I don't own any of the Naruto characters. They are Masashi Kishimoto's bitches.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated

**Altered Carbon**-chapter two

The argument with Temari had left the sand shinobi dizzy with resentment. He was wired with anger, but couldn't tell whether it was directed to his kunoichi sister or himself. Trudging down the dirt roads of the village, Kankuro violently kicked a stone in his way and watched as it shot far into the distance.

It did little to calm his strung nerves.

_Fuck you, Temari…you don't know what its like. You have it easy, you stupid stuck-up little…_ once again turning his feelings of anger to his older sister, the puppeteer shinobi tossed his third cigarette of the night into a nearby trash receptacle.

He had long got over the terrible smell of ash and smoke that offended the flaxen-haired kunoichi, but there was nothing he could do about the feeling of need that his addiction came with. There were never enough cigarettes in the box, as he always felt the craving for another one, especially after any fight with Temari.

As several paper lanterns began to glow along the well-beaten road, Kankuro considered heading over to the nearest drinking establishment. If nicotine couldn't calm his nerves, perhaps a couple rounds of sake would. It wouldn't have been the first time he had doused out his exasperation with alcohol, not by a long shot.

Mumbling a slew of derogatory words, half-formed and barely making their way past his clenched jaws, Kankuro knew that his other teammates wouldn't forgive him if he arrived at tomorrow's mission with a hangover. It was supposedly a rather important job, one that promised danger, battle, excitement and all that other useless bullshit.

_Who gives a fuck anymore…they're all the same in the end. I kill someone, we get paid, big deal,_ Kankuro groaned, pulling the bundled form of Karasu higher up on his back.

A strong breeze hit him square in the back, causing him to stumble over a few scattered bottles lying on the ground. Biting his lower lip, sharp canines cutting into the soft flesh, Kankuro angrily picked up one of the bottles and threw it at a nearby wall. It seemed to shatter before it even hit, exploding into a million shards of murky green glass, garnering the attention of several citizens. Instantly a murmur of interest and caution began to stir in the rowdy nighttime street.

"What? What do you want?!" Kankuro lashed out viciously, well aware that his voice was buried in a low-toned growl. Spit frothing at his mouth, the puppet master leered at a particularly large group of people who were all looking at him with apprehensive eyes filled with something he believed to be disgust.

_Why the hell are they staring like that?! Don't they know who I am? _he thought, feral eyes nearly shut with annoyance. He flashed his teeth menacingly at the crowd before continuing down the road, now in more of a hurry, half-glad that he had given the street dwellers a taste of his vehemence.

He really hadn't changed much, it seemed. Whereas his own brother was now a highly respected leader and his sister was well on her way to becoming an esteemed ANBU shinobi, Kankuro was still often reduced into a bully when he was angry, picking on those smaller and weaker than him. It had always been a hobby of his, spanning back to that fateful Chuunin selection exam. The look on the Hokage's grandson had been hilarious, and it had felt good to see the little boy recoil in fear.

But now those gaping faces of fear were slowly being replaced with grimaces of hate and distrust.

Rushing past everything and everyone, feet moving as if by their own accord, Kankuro whipped around the street corners, past the restaurants and bars and laughing throngs of people, so happy and giddy and drunk off their own pleasurable company. There would be no one waiting for him back home, but he preferred it like that.

No one could tell him how to live his own life. If he wanted to wallow in his own ashtray and beer bottle, than so be it.

_Damn right!_ he told himself, trying to sound sure of himself, but a little piece of his mind faltered when he thought of his sister once more.

She really did care for him as well as Gaara. They didn't have any parents or caretakers, unless you included Baki, and as such she had personally taken the role upon herself. At times he had been glad for it. After a mission, she would always cook a meal for all three of them at her place, and Kankuro was not one to pass up a free dinner, even if was sometimes burnt. He would never confess that to his sister's face though; he valued his manhood too much.

But at times like this, when he was already stressed out enough, he just wished his older sister would piss off and leave him be.

The sole of his sandal struck something solid, and Kankuro looked up to see the front patio of his apartment building. He had arrived sooner than he thought he would, and didn't even have his key ready. Rummaging around his pockets, he pulled out a dull-looking piece of metal, parts of it rusted. Some of the teeth were so horribly bent out of shape that when he tried to remove it from the building's keyhole it became sufficiently lodged in the lock. Rattling the doorknob, trying to wrench the key free through brute force, Kankuro finally ripped it loose.

The building that Kankuro called his home was a run-of-the-mill complex, with two apartments per structure, separated by a staircase. He had no idea who lived above him, nor did he care. Whoever it was, they were quiet and Kankuro genuinely appreciated that. The last thing he needed were the feet of small children pattering above him or the crash and boom of another resident's music reverberating through the thin ceiling.

Trudging past the stairs lackadaisically, Kankuro felt his breathes becoming heavier as exhaustion began to seep into his bones. It had been a boring, pedestrian day at his post with nothing but the stupendous scenery to marvel at. He thought about his bed, unmade but still comfy, and realized how cathartic the idea seemed.

He quickly crossed the short hallway that led to his apartment, and with a much easier click and twist, he opened the front door. A draft of warm air awaited Kankuro on the inside; he had forgotten to leave the air conditioning on. Rolling his eyes lazily, the black-clad shinobi latched the door behind him and pulled off his hood, tossing it onto the ground near his feet, exposing his shaggy, unkempt brown hair. He pulled his fingers through the tousled strands, thick and sodden with sweat, and then pawed the dark area to the right of him, searching for the AC switch. Eyes quickly adjusting to the low light of the room, Kankuro soon found his target, and with a satisfying flick, the fans above him started to churn out decidedly cooler air.

That finished, the young shinobi clumsily moved towards the back of the apartment, dumping Karasu in the middle of the hallway, ignoring the clattering thud it make on the floor. It had been a long time since he had last cleaned the battle puppet, and its wooden limbs were so caked with blood that they no longer moved as smoothly and lithely as they should. Temari chastised him about this on a daily basis, scolding him for being so negligent about his favorite weapon, but it didn't matter. He just didn't care anymore.

Already pulling his black shirt over his head, Kankuro staggered into his bedroom, throwing the garment into a nearly full laundry basket. He quickly let his sandals and gloves clunk onto the ground afterwards so that he was now only dressed in his pants. Kankuro felt his knees tap into the edge of his bed. Having memorized the layout of the room, he moved around it in a clockwise fashion, past the bedside table cluttered with half-empty bottles of who-knows-what, past a large pile of dirty clothes, and into the connected bathroom.

His bare toes scrunched when they hit cold, linoleum tiles, but it was a welcome sensation after having his feet trapped inside his hot, sweaty shoes all day. Kankuro slapped a tired hand onto the solitary light switch, causing a wash of garish light to crash down on him, causing his eyes, which by this point had become acclimated to the darkness, to squint and tremble. Sheepishly opening one eyelid at a time, the broken and weary shinobi bent over the sink, which was unsurprisingly messy.

Gazing into a cracked mirror that was barely attached to the bathroom wall, Kankuro solemnly noticed that the person he saw on the other side of the looking glass was someone he barely even recognized.

Instead of a young shinobi of only 19 years, he found a fatigued, battered nonentity staring back at him with drab, listless eyes. His skin was pale and sickly, hardly what you would expect of someone who spent every waking day in the remorseless desert sun. Paint that should have been applied with painstaking care was instead brushed onto his face haphazardly, barely symmetrical and jagged in several areas.

Breaking his gaze with the nobody in the mirror, Kankuro twisted the faucet, a jet of cold water splashing into the basin below it. Cupping his hands beneath the icy stream, he splashed his washed-out face, shuddering slightly as little bit of the chilly water spilled onto his exposed chest.

He wasn't proud of how he looked, but the arrogant shinobi would sooner have his tongue ripped from his mouth than admit to it out loud. Kankuro moved his hands over his chest and stomach, feeling the somewhat flabby surfaces that had once been hard and strapping. While far from being considered "fat", the puppet-wielder was no longer the solid wall of muscle that he had been in the past. Kankuro was still tall, taller than any of the other shinobi his age, but the loss of his chiseled physique had done much to diminish his impressive stature.

His smoking habit was mostly to blame. Behind his sister's back, Kankuro had actually tried to quit, on several occasions actually. But every time he did so, he would only turn to other addictions to sate his dependency for nicotine, indulging in food and alcohol, causing him to fatten up. This in turn only served to depress him, which lead him back to his cigarettes, all and all tying him up in a tragic circle of addiction from which there seemed no escape.

Tracing his fingers along his body, Kankuro sighed, restless and tired at the same time, worn out, yet not enough to simply concede to sleep. The paint on his face was now running from the water, dripping down his cheeks and off of his chin like fat, purple tears. He squeezed a bit of soap into his hands and worked it into a thick lather, scrubbing whatever paint was left to rinse away. A bit of the foam slipped into his eyes and abruptly true tears of irritation moistened his lashes, promising to tumble if he blinked.

"Shit…" Kankuro cursed lowly, gathering a generous amount of water in his joined hands, flushing out his eyes. He grabbed a towel off of the wall-mounted rack and quickly dabbed his face dry, using his other hand to turn off the faucet. There was still a little bit of purple left on his cheeks, but it wasn't enough to merit his attention, not when the disgusting face in the mirror had his attention once more.

Without his "clown makeup", as some people mistakenly called it, Kankuro found himself even more repulsed by his own appearance. He frowned, looking at the darkened circles beneath his eyes, and his lips, which only held the appearance of being plump when marked with paint, now looked so thin and frail. All in all, Kankuro felt like a tragic shadow of his former self, devoid of his past liveliness and shrewd cleverness.

He had once been so cunning, one could have even called him ruggedly handsome. Now he just looked pathetic and washed-up.

It took him a few solemn moments, but Kankuro finally managed to steal himself away from the bathroom, almost forgetting to switch off the light before plopping onto his bed, the old springs creaking beneath his weight.

He sighed, looking up at his barren ceiling, at the subtle crack that extended from one end to the other. It seemed to closely resemble his own life, a single scar that began at one point and monotonously ended at another, with nothing changing, nothing splitting it off into a tangent.

Just a line going in the same direction forever until it died.

Kankuro shifted his body to one side awkwardly, avoiding the ceiling that suddenly seemed to close. He didn't want to be reminded of where he was headed, didn't want to see his destiny coming straight for him.

It was all too heavy. Moving his legs so that his the tops of his thighs nearly touched his bare chest, Kankuro closed his eyes slowly, waiting for sleep to finally claim him.

There was still time; he could get dressed and go to the bar just outside, order two dozen rounds and drink to his life's great success.

But even that probably wouldn't help matters, wouldn't rid him of this terrible emptiness that he only felt when all was dark and lonely and there wasn't another soul to berate him.

He twisted over to his other side and felt that familiar cardboard box jabbing into his hip. For a moment, the tongue inside his mouth went dry as his creeping addiction started to crawl into his blood. Pulling out the carton of cigarettes, Kankuro glared at it as if it were an enemy shinobi armed with a thousand kunai before hurling it onto the floor.

It didn't matter; in the morning he would pick it back up as always and put it back in his pocket, like always.

Like every single day.

((A/N: I'm sorry for all of the angst, you guys! Don't worry, hopefully things will get a little happier -and maybe funnier- in a couple of chapters! Please review if you can!))


	3. Like the White Rabbit

Disclaimer: Kankuro and the other Naruto characters unfortunately are not my little slaves. They have to serve Masashi Kishimoto.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter three

"_Kankuro…wake up you sleepy-head! Kankuro!"_

"Quiet, woman, I still wanna sleep…for just…a little…longer."

"_Kankuro, you're such a jerk, don't you want to do something today?"_

"Sure I do, but…"

"_But what?"_

"It just doesn't feel right."

"_Kankuro?"_

"It just doesn't feel right…" Kankuro said again as he thrashed his head against his sweat-soaked pillow, mouth opening and closing with unspoken words. He was still locked in sleep, his limbs deeply entwined in his bed's only sheet, but a stirring dream was causing his senses to gradually rouse themselves.

He gingerly opened one of his eyes, using his forearm to wipe away the crust that had formed overnight.

_**Slam! Slam!!**_

The sudden noise from down the hallway caused Kankuro to sit straight up, back flat as a board, both of his eyes now wide open and alert, darting around wildly across the room and past his bedroom door.

"Hello?" he called out angrily, not sure how anyone had cleared the building's front entrance or why they would be here in the first place. "Who is it? Leave me the hell alone!"

_**SLAM!!!**_

This time the noise was louder and more raucous then before. Whoever was hammering their fists into his door wasn't going to leave very easily, it seemed.

Kankuro let himself fall backwards onto his pillow again, a single hand covering his lethargic face, peeking through his spread fingers with a slothful stare. It wasn't the landlord; he had already paid his rent a couple weeks back, and the shinobi seriously doubted that the mysterious upstairs neighbor had finally decided to pull themselves out of their hermit hole and pay him a visit.

Maybe if he just ignored it…

_**SLAM!! BAM!!!!**_

"Okay, okay you persistent bastard!" yelling as loudly as his tired lungs would allow him to, Kankuro abruptly shot out of his bed, plodding towards the front door with heavy feet. Glancing at the digital clock near the exit of his room, the drowsy shinobi cursed under his breath. It was only nine o'clock in the morning; he wasn't scheduled to meet with Temari and Gaara for another three hours.

_Whoever's slamming on my door had better have a damn good reason for being here, _thought Kankuro, as he shuffled by the abandoned Karasu. He hoped no one planned on coming inside; his apartment was a deplorable mess of scrolls, puppet parts and assorted tools, not to mention beer bottles and scattered trash. Several ash trays decorated the few tables in the living room, so that wherever he sat or napped, there was always one nearby.

It was no swinging bachelor pad, but the living room had a working television and an old couch, plus a refrigerator stocked with sake and junk food in the kitchen, and that was all Kankuro needed.

If he strained his ears, Kankuro could have sworn he heard someone grumbling outside. He supposed he had made them wait long enough. If someone wanted to see him so badly that they were beating down his door, who was he to disappoint?

Wrenching the doorknob sanctimoniously, Kankuro nearly slammed it back shut, for just outside, hand raised as if ready to knock once more, was none other than Temari.

Kankuro felt like punching his own sister in the face, mad at her for having the gall to pointlessly wake him up. But her intense gaze told him that she wasn't here to waste his time.

She was dressed in a formal lavender kimono that Kankuro knew he had never seen her wear before. An elaborate obi sash of some kind of brocade fabric was tightly bound around her waist, accentuating her body's hourglass silhouette. It wasn't hard to see why the Konoha shadow-wielder was so enamored with his sister; she had become a rather voluptuous woman, despite her somewhat capricious nature.

In one of her hands was a small package, but there was no way to tell what it might be.

"How did you get past the front entrance?" he asked, giving the kunoichi a bitter look of his own. "Why are you all dressed up like that? We don't need to be ready for a while, right?"

"Are you stupid or something? I don't need to be challenged like that!" barging her way around the large shinobi, Temari eyeballed the apartment with an amused look on her face. "I picked the front door; I'm not a shitty genin anymore. Simple locks like that really don't pose that much of a problem."

Sarcastically plugging her nose with her fingers, Temari gestured towards the clutter and chaos that was her brother's apartment.

"I remember _now_ why I don't come to visit you very often, Kankuro."

"I don't need to hear another lecture, Temari. Now what do you need?" Kankuro replied icily, putting himself between his sister and the rest of the hallway. Perhaps he needed to tell the landlord to install a lock that could only be opened by way of a particular hand-seal; the idea of Temari intruding in on him like this on a regular basis made his stomach drop a little.

"Well, first off, I think you need to be a little more thankful to me for getting your lazy ass out of that sorry excuse for a bed. If I wasn't here, you'd have Gaara to deal with," Temari explained, sounding very sure of herself. Kankuro's lips pulled down into a frown of confusion. Had he forgotten something? The maniacal smile playing on Temari's face certainly seemed to insinuate that he had.

"Get on with it, what did I screw up this time?" the shinobi said, positive that Temari was enjoying seeing him so uninformed with only his big sister to enlighten him. He wasn't about to give his thanks, but at least he had confessed that he was wrong about something.

"Good enough, bozo," she remarked, putting her hands upon her well-formed hips. "Looks like you didn't get the memo. Today's mission was cancelled. In lieu of it, we need to attend a special meeting in the mansion in about an hour. I thought you knew!"

Temari's lips twisted into a saccharine smile that dripped with mock innocence, knowing fully well that her sibling was entirely oblivious to the change in plans. It was as plain as the dumb look on his face.

"Why didn't anyone inform me about this? God Damnit, Temari!" Kankuro gnashed his sharp teeth together, nearly ready to bash a small hole in the wall beside Temari's toffee-nosed face. "One hour? That's all the time I have to get ready?"

"Yep!" she smiled again, and Kankuro felt the ire rising in him, the veins of his forehead bulging slightly. Temari playfully smacked one of his cheeks, knowing that she was already treading on thin ice, but she hadn't forgotten his smart remarks from the previous night. If anything, this was just a light dose of revenge for what Kankuro had said about her and Shikamaru. Giving her brother a visual once-over, the wily kunoichi added, "And I suggest you get started soon, it won't do to show up looking like _that_. Please tell me that your kimono isn't wrinkly and smells like smoke!"

Kankuro refused to give an answer, and instead slowly rolled his eyes back and forth across the hallway, avoiding the brooding stare of his difficult sister, while he rocked on his heels.

"God! Why do I have to do everything around here?" Temari spat out, shoving the small bundle into Kankuro's hands. Just from holding it, he could tell that inside was some kind of garment. Tapping a sandaled foot on the floor, she continued hotly, "I had that one ready just in case, thankfully. I swear, sometimes you really are quite useless, you know that?"

"I get it, okay? Now can you leave, I need to get ready," tucking the fresh clothes underneath his arm, Kankuro motioned indolently towards the door, hoping that Temari would understand his silent message. Instead, she stood her ground, waiting for the smallest sign of gratitude to show itself. She wasn't about to leave without it. Kankuro saw the meddling glint in her eyes and then let out an exasperated moan. "_**Thank you**_! Are you happy _now_? Can I get on with my life?"

Temari backed away towards the door, and was just about to slip away quietly and pull the door closed when a hand shot out, holding it fast. She glanced back in to see Kankuro looking directly at her, face utterly composed, removed of all egotism. She felt her heart flip inside her chest to see Kankuro looking so serious. It was like catching a glimpse of her brother from two years ago.

"Temari, thank you…and I'm sorry…about what I said about Shikamaru last night," he spoke in hushed tones that chimed clearer than any bell. "I am happy for you guys…I just…"

"Go get ready, Kankuro," accepting his apology in the only way she knew how, Temari tapped his lips gently. She smiled at him, one that was tinged with sincerity, as she nodded her head. "We need you to arrive at the Kazekage mansion at a quarter before ten. Don't be late."

And with that, she quickly shut the door. The breath of air that had been lodged in Kankuro's lungs finally leaked out in one long gasp. Sneaking a cursory glance at the

neatly folded package in his hands, he turned on one heel back towards his room.

The moment he reentered the bedroom, his eyes fell towards the floor, at the almost finished box of cigarettes on the floor. In an instant Kankuro knew he should have steered his sight away from them, as he could almost taste the smoke rolling off of his tongue, slowly killing his taste buds and sense of smell.

It would have to wait. Keeping his eyes focused on the bathroom and the shower inside it, Kankuro walked around the red and white carton, stopping for the smallest of seconds when his toes brushed up against it.

The craving was eating at him again. He pulled at the messy, oily hair on the back of his head, trying to disregard that nauseating need.

It had to wait.

But could he?

Swallowing hard, Kankuro finally pushed his way past that looming object on the floor, dropping his sister's "present" on his bed as he passed by. Nearly throwing himself into the bathroom, the shinobi pulled off his black pants and undergarments, fueled by a sudden need to hurry.

He showered quickly and efficiently, soaping and scrubbing his body, trying to wash off the stench of smoke and alcohol that seemed to linger on his skin and in his hair. A quick rinse later and Kankuro turned off the warm water, slipping out quietly and grabbing a towel to tie around his midsection.

Watery footprints trailing behind him and his hair still sopping wet, the shinobi yanked open the metal medicine cabinet that stood next to his bathroom mirror. Weeding through bottles of headache pills and infrequently used phials of cologne, Kankuro finally pulled out a medium-sized canister that had no identifying marks or lettering on it. This he sat on the sink, along with a small brush with a very narrow tip made of horsehair.

Unwrapping the towel from his waist, Kankuro used it to dry his face completely, rustling his hair to shake loose the beads of water.

He mechanically twisted the lid off of the container and delicately dipped the brush into the inky substance within in. When it had become sufficiently saturated, the puppeteer pulled it out and with fingers that didn't dare to tremble, Kankuro began to paint his face with a sort of dedication he'd long forsaken.

The paint was cold against the pale surface of his skin, but he welcomed it like a dying man welcomed a goblet of icy water. He smoothed the fine hairs of the brush across his closed eyes, allowing the paint to ghost over the lids, strong and thick, only thinning as the line reached his temples. Kankuro repeated the action on the other half of his face, counting silently to himself as he waited for the paint to dry.

It was a ritual for Kankuro, one that he had almost lost all interest in. All puppet masters had to be skilled in the application of the ceremonial kabuki paint; it was an integral part of their appearance. Their emotions had to be hidden behind the mask, as their humanistic weapons acted on their behalf.

As he stroked the brush about his face, lost in some sort of therapeutic trance, the lines prominent and bold, Kankuro was starting to feel a little elated. It had been forever since he had seen this kind of face staring back at him. For a second, he thought he saw an unsteady shimmer of pride start to appear in his eyes.

The painted man in the mirror looked strong and determined, the intense color drawn over his lips and then trailing down his chin.

Was this really him? Was this really the true Kankuro, or just a façade?

When Kankuro had finished, he checked and rechecked his handy work, looking at his face from all conceivable angles, ensuring that the patterns were as identical on both sides as they could be. Unlike the previous day, there were no crooked strokes, no imperfections. The broad lines seemed to pull his entire face together, seemed to complete and compliment him.

The only thing that seemed to interrupt the symmetry of the paint was the looped piercing in his left eyebrow. He had gotten it over a year ago, following the recommendation of person he'd once known very well. Although it wasn't difficult to manipulate the brush and paint around the metal of the piercing, it did manage throw his look off a little.

Still, it had meant so much to _her_.

Sighing, Kankuro felt he would be better off just leaving it there, if only for the time being. Whenever he noticed the loop above his eye, he would always make it a point to tear it off for good, but then a little voice inside of him would disrupt him, advise him otherwise, and so there it still was, after all this time.

"It just doesn't feel right," whispering to the mirror, Kankuro lightly traced a single fingernail over the piercing, remembering the day he had had it done, thinking about the look on her face when she had seen it. According to her, it had made him look "dreamy".

He wasn't so sure of his decision anymore, just like he now doubted so many of the choices he had made recently.

Kankuro shook his head despondently, thinking about what he had before him, what needed to be taken of here and now. He couldn't wallow and wait for his past to swallow him up.

Time was passing him by, and he still needed to get dressed.

Patting his face to check if the paint was dry, Kankuro left the bathroom, his body more or less dry.

Reaching out for the parcel on his bed, the young shinobi slowly pulled off the twine that held it closed. Fingers working quickly to undo the double knots, Kankuro gave a sly smile as he pulled out a rather luxurious men's kimono of deep blue fabric which was accompanied by a pair of divided hakama pants.

_At least she picked out a good color…_ Kankuro remarked, making a note to thank Temari later on as he pulled his arms through the arm holes of the garment and swiftly slipped into the gray pants. They barely fit around his waist, and if he didn't know any better, Kankuro suspected that his witty sibling was trying to tell him something.

With the minutes ticking by, Kankuro snatched up the most suitable pair of sandals he could find in the pile of odds and ends that lay on his bedroom floor. There were some surface marks and scuff, but nothing even his scrupulous sister's eye could detect.

Sliding his feet into the sandals, Kankuro then unconsciously gathered his leather wallet, along with his pack of cigarettes from off the floor and slipped them into the inner pocket of his kimono.

When he felt the box rub against his side, Kankuro almost felt guilty. Did he really expect to smoke in the kimono his sister had just given him, stink up this piece of clothing so that it matched his others?

Already, he could feel the evil little box burning a hole in his kimono's pocket.

_Perhaps just one smoke after the meeting won't hurt,_ Kankuro decided, racing out into the hallway out the front door, hoping that he wouldn't be too late. He'd forgotten to check the clock on his way out, and could only guess that he had about five minutes to reach the mansion.

His sandals rapped against the cobblestone and dirt pathways of the village. As he moved quickly towards his destination, Kankuro keenly noticed that the citizens of Sunagakure were regarding him differently. A few of them waved their salutations as he dashed by, and the reinvigorated shinobi swore a few females were winking at him, causing an uncommon blush to redden his cheeks.

Although Kankuro wanted to believe they were being enticed by his rugged good looks, he knew that the girl's flirtatious behavior could only be attributed to his new kimono.

With a pained expression on his face, barely visible past his mask of paint, the puppet-wielding shinobi determined that there was no reason to get his hopes up anyhow.

He had long since given up on that pursuit.

As apprehension started to build in his throat, Kankuro suddenly felt the all-too-common yearning strike him again from the inside.

The pangs were getting stronger now. It was normal for Kankuro to start the day with at least two cigarettes, and although he was ignoring the addiction's call as best he could, it wouldn't be long before his fingers would start to shake and his eyes would turn red and glisten with tears of wanting.

Deep in his heart, Kankuro pleaded that this special meeting would be as brief as possible; he didn't want his siblings to have to witness one of his craving attacks, as it was hardly a glamorous sight to behold.

Moving onwards, Kankuro felt his mouth curl up into a feral smile once he saw the spires of the Kazekage's mansion peeking over the tops of the nearby buildings. He was thankful that his apartment was located so closely to Gaara's place of residence.

Soon, this would all be over, and then his driving hunger could finally be sated.

((A/N: I thank everyone who is reading my story. I hope that you continue to follow along! As always, I appreciate any comments or criticisms!))


	4. The Mission

Disclaimer: The Naruto characters are not mine, nor will they ever be (boo!). They belong to their creator, Masashi Kishimoto, who is awesome-o.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter four

He raced up the stairs, past the nobles that commonly occupied the Kazekage's mansion, darting by the servants and attendants. The tight fit of his kimono jacket was hardly helping matters and once or twice, a sandal would nearly slip off, reminding Kankuro that he had neglected to wear the proper tabi socks. Already, a slight blister was being driven into the tender flesh between his toes, but he couldn't let that slow him down. His sister would have his balls on a platter if he was late…again.

Finally reaching the last of many staircases, Kankuro cautiously peered upwards and let out a breathy sigh of relief when he saw his young brother standing at the top; there was no mistaking Gaara's ruddy hair or his typical pose of sulking with his arms crossed in front of him. However, like his sister, he was not wearing his usual clothes, but rather the ceremonial Kazekage robes of white and blue. They didn't know Kankuro was close, as no one had called out his name yet. At once he vaulted upwards to meet his siblings, hopeful that he wasn't at risk for another of Temari's heated tirades.

Arms pumping and pant legs swishing past one another, Kankuro only lessened his pace once both Temari and Gaara were both in view. They turned away from the half-open doorway in front of them and immediately he could feel their stares boring into him. A thick patch of sweat began to accumulate behind his ears and at the base of his neck.

"Well, I made it, didn't I?" he shrugged his shoulders, looking between the golden-haired kunoichi and his Kazekage brother. Upon closer inspection, Kankuro realized that the two of them were not looking at him with glowering eyes of disapproval, but instead disbelief.

"You look…good," Gaara stated simply, much as he always spoke. There was enough approval in his voice for Kankuro to pick up on.

"Ka-Kankuro? Is that really you? Who are you and where have you taken my brother?" sputtering, Temari blinked her brilliant eyes several times, trying to comprehend the fact that this groomed, kimono-clad man in front of her was actually her slacker-of-a-brother. Impressed that he'd managed to squeeze into the purposely too-small pants, the kunoichi sauntered up to Kankuro and poked him in the stomach teasingly. "Looks like I brought you the right size: chubby."

"Hey! Watch it! I'm about to bust out of this thing as it is!" pushing his sister's hands away, Kankuro flinched nervously. Ignoring Temari's twittering laughter, Kankuro turned to the youngest of the sand siblings, praying that he could return some seriousness to the current state of affairs. "Gaara, please tell me the meeting hasn't started yet."

"No, you've arrived just in time, as luck would have it," thin, pale lips barely parting when he spoke, Gaara almost seemed entertained by his wily sister's antics, a rare flash of deviousness glinting in his light cerulean eyes. "Baki is already waiting for us inside. Shall we?"

The two other shinobi nodded in collective agreement and entered after their brother, as a show of respect to his station. Kankuro was the last to emerge into the circular conference room. He was surprised to see Baki softly discussing something with several high standing lords.

This was no normal meeting, it seemed.

There were five of them, all dressed in regal attire befitting of their titles, and each of them wore faces of crucial severity. As he scanned the room, Kankuro noticed that opposite the Sunagakure lords were three other men that he did not recognize, also outfitted in formal robes of brown and green silk. Pompous hats of a similar color and fabric sat atop their aged heads, denoting their royal stature.

_Outsiders! _Kankuro thought hesitantly, not sure what to make of all this. Something deep was brewing here, and he dearly wished someone would break the frosty silence.

"Kazekage-sama, Temari, Kankuro… These men are from Iwagakure, the Rock village," Baki uttered the first words of the meeting, looking at each of his students with a careful gaze.

When Baki's single exposed eye met with Kankuro's, it was apparent that he was startled by the young shinobi's considerably cleaner appearance, though his shock was a little more discreet than Temari's. It was clear to the older jonin that something big must have lit a fire under the boy's ass to make him dress so properly. Everything about his look had undergone a marked improvement, especially his normally sloppy face paint.

"I know that this was not your normally scheduled meeting, and I apologize on the behalf of everyone for the last-minute notice."

Kankuro coughed, trying to catch his sister's attention, but the guilty kunoichi simply imitated his earlier reaction, rocking onto her high-heeled sandals like a small child caught in the middle of something mischievous. Irritated, he straightened his back as one of the foreign men cleared his throat.

"Yes, we greatly appreciate you three coming here, Kazekage-sama…we didn't know where else to turn for help," the elderly man spoke slowly, silky words tumbling out of his mouth and onto his long, white beard.

"Are you in some sort of trouble? What can Sunagakure do for you?" Gaara asked calmly, surprising the nobleman with his assertiveness. Many of the other shinobi nations still viewed the former Jinchuriiki as being an atrocious fiend; only those close to the sand village were aware of his new-found eagerness to associate with and help others.

Reaching into the depths of his thick robes, one of the other, slightly younger aristocrats produced a small scroll. Raising the index and middle fingers of his right hand, the man whispered a few words, releasing the chakra seal that kept the contents of the manuscript safe.

"You'll find a majority of the details in this," the nobleman explained, handing the scroll to Gaara for further assessment. He continued as the young Kazekage proceeded to unroll the missive. "We of the Rock village have long been missing one of our most essential shinobi…a kunoichi to be precise, one by the name of Mifune Hyun-su.

"You see, nearly six years ago, she went AWOL, presumably taken against her own will."

Looking up from the scroll in his hands, Gaara eyed the man meticulously, pinning him with a glower that demanded clarification.

"Taken?" he said in a quiet, yet powerful voice while handing the scroll over to Baki, "Why would anyone kidnap her?"

"We only know so much, Kazekage-sama, please forgive our ignorance," the third elder spoke up, wispy eyebrows gathered in a deep-set frown. Putting his withered hands together, he gave a low bow before speaking again. "She could be dead, for all we know. However, Hyun-su is no average kunoichi, and our sources tell us that a person loosely matching her description was last seen in the forests between this village and Konoha. As to why she was abducted, there's really no telling."

At this, Kankuro grunted loudly. There was a knot in his stomach that told him there was something missing, some piece of information that the three lords were reluctant to part with.

"So, you've lost some fancy-pants girl, and you're _just_ now starting to seriously look for her, straying this far from your home village for help?" he said questioningly, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at the nobleman who had spoken last. Ignoring the charring glances from his sister and from Baki, Kankuro continued his gentle interrogation. "Why not send some of your own shinobi? You would know her best, might be able to recognize her better than any of us. After six years she's sure to look completely different than whatever picture you have on file."

"Yes, I know this mission may seem a bit unusual. But you must trust me when I say our shinobi have tried on numerous occasions to find her and bring her back home," the man responded quickly, and Kankuro had the nagging suspicion that the Rock villager had been preparing such an answer. The puppet master gave him a probing glare not unlike that of his younger brother, and with a light cough, the lord added pleadingly, "Her family misses her terribly, and we have need of her abilities in our village!"

With still half a mind to grind some solid truths out of the old codger, Kankuro opened his mouth to speak, but Temari beat him to the punch, interjecting at the very last moment.

"Excuse my brother's skepticism, lord. Can we safely assume that you've provided us with everything we will need to know?" Temari spoke respectfully, trying her best to restore a sense of dignity to the meeting. She then shot Kankuro a fiery look that screamed "Shut up!"

"Yes, of course…please…look it over and consider taking on this very crucial rescue mission," the first elder chimed in feebly, now wary of the large kabuki-faced shinobi. Purposefully avoiding Kankuro's line of sight, he turned his attention to the Sand village lords. "May we convene in roughly half an hour? Hopefully by then, you will have reached a decision."

He looked at them with pleading eyes, and then, after a tentative exchange of bows, the older gentlemen eagerly excused themselves from the meeting room, leaving behind the sand siblings and their teacher.

The close air of the room instantly dissipated, and Kankuro was glad to see the stuffy, Rock village geezers gone. Politicians had always unnerved him; amazingly enough, Gaara had much more success in dealing with them, armed with his cool demeanor and unruffled poise.

_For all I care, they can take their stupid mission somewhere else_, the puppeteer thought, itching for a smoke break.

Kankuro nearly choked on his own saliva when, out of the blue, a hand smacked him on the back of his head.

"You idiot! What the _hell_ was that all about?" incensed, Temari slapped her younger brother straight across his face, hoping that the sting would last.

"What was _that_ for?" Kankuro spat back, clapping a hand over his swollen cheek.

"What do you mean 'what was that for'? Why were you so suspicious of those men?" the fan-using kunoichi shouted, hands clenched and held tightly at her sides. "The alliance between our village and the Rock village has never been very strong, especially since the Great Shinobi War! How could you insult them like that?"

"Oh _please_, spare me the history lesson, Temari," Kankuro replied casually, arching his fingers into "bunny ears" to enhance his cynicism. This only provided more fuel to his sister's mounting anger, face flushing with a bright cherry color. "Can't you see that this mission is riddled with holes? How can we accept a mission from people who are so seedy? I mean, come on! They waited six freakin' years before requesting a formal search and rescue to be conducted!"

"Enough, Kankuro," Gaara voice mollified the growing tension between his brother and sister, though it was evident that he was leaning heavily to one side of the argument.

"Temari is right. It is a shinobi's duty to undertake any mission that benefits their village, so long as the payment is sound."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Kankuro snorted, not pleased with the direction things were going. Eyes brimming with frustration, the young shinobi turned to his teacher, who had been listening to the sibling's heated conversation intently while perusing the contents of the Rock village's document. "Please tell me you don't agree to this."

"Kankuro, it's not like we're going in blindfolded. There are some interesting details in this report that could very well shed some light on the situation. I suggest you all read it over carefully," Baki replied, holding the scroll with his armpit so that he could place a reassuring hand on each of the stubborn shinobi's shoulders.

"You are not the only one with doubts, after all, Kankuro. But we cannot simply decline such a lucrative mission, not when there is so much that can be gained. Our success will guarantee favorable relations with Iwagakure and its leader, the Tsuchikage."

No matter how hard he tried to avoid it, there was no denying Baki's logic. Kankuro gave a deep sigh of resignation. It was now three against one.

"So, when do we leave?"

* * *

The three lords from the Rock village were overjoyed to hear the Kazekage's decision, to learn that he and his siblings had accepted their mission. All that was left were a few formalities and the signing of several legal documents entailing the conditions of the mission and its reward upon completion.

To Kankuro, this was the most tedious, boring part of his job as a shinobi. He hated the waiting, the technical jargon, the paperwork, everything. Thankfully most of it was taken care of by his brother, as he was the Kazekage, after all. Sometimes his sister would accompany Gaara, oversee things, but normally Temari and Kankuro would stay out of the way, allowing him to conduct his business in private. This was especially important when concerning matters between two villages bridged by an edgy alliance.

Now standing on the veranda outside of the meeting room, nerves fraying and skin crawling, Kankuro ripped the pack of cigarettes out of his inner pocket. A moment later and soon a thick column of smoke was flowing out of his mouth and nostrils, both pleasing and irritating him.

It had been a difficult ordeal to remain composed during the meeting, especially with so many sketchy factors to mull over. He still wasn't completely satisfied with the results of the gathering. Kankuro could still feel a nagging sensation wrenching in his gut, warning him of against something, anything.

The Rock village's scroll, as promised, was filled with details and statistics. Much of it was fluff, demographics about the village, a brief history of its leaders and shinobi, stuff that Kankuro didn't care about. He wanted to know about the kidnapped girl, try to dissect those aspects of the mission, try to find some bit of lose information, something that the Iwagakure lords were trying to avoid mentioning.

After reading the document carefully, he had found nothing curious or odd. The girl in question, Hyun-su, had been reported missing six years ago, when she was twelve. A tattered photograph affixed the scroll showed the face of an innocent child with chubby cheeks and smooth black hair. Her bee-stung lips were pulled apart in a smile that showed off her pearly, tiny teeth, and even with his normal objection to children, Kankuro had to admit that the girl was cute.

It wasn't hard to see why she had been abducted. Things like this were much too common and it wouldn't be the first time Kankuro had been on this type of rescue mission. There would always be crazies out there, selfish brigands who had nothing better to do than snatch children out of their parent's arms in order to collect some kind of ransom.

The horrible concept made him sick.

Crushing the nearly finished cigarette with the bottom of his sandal, Kankuro leaned his back up against the railing of the terrace, the mild midday breeze carrying his thoughts back, way back.

Kankuro had been too late that time.

Eyelids crushing against his cheeks, he felt the memories flooding his brain, blood coursing faster through his body. Kankuro twisted around so that he could rest his elbows on the metal banister and cover his painted face with both hands.

From behind closed eyes he could still see it, all of it, every detail, every scrap of flesh, every single pathetic drop of blood.

The boy had only been…what? 7-years-old?

It had been all his fault.

His name had been Tsuneo.

From behind him, Kankuro heard a glass door sliding to one side, nearly soundless as it glided on its well-lubricated track. He remained still, his hands enshrouding his face, hiding away eyes that would betray his inner guilt.

Something soft wrapped around his waist, supporting him, helping him to push back the tears. A sob found its way out of his heavy chest and Kankuro sniffed inwards, trying to keep himself together.

"You can't keep blaming yourself, not for this, not for anything," a muted whisper spoke into his ears, sympathetic but strong.

"I can't stop it, Temari, I can't let it go…" Kankuro said forcefully, gritting his teeth to smother the tremble in his voice.

The arms looped about his midsection squeezed a little as the kunoichi pressed herself against her brother's back. Temari felt his heart racing out of control, and although she could not see the streaks of silver coursing from his eyes, the sudden hitch in his breath told her that they were indeed there. He subtly placed a single finger beneath his nose.

"I was so useless…I'm always the useless one!" cried the young shinobi finally, shoulders bucking a little as his wall of solid emotions began to slowly crumble. "I always say the wrong things…I always do the wrong things…Why am I so fucking inept?"

"Stop saying that! You're not useless!" Temari answered firmly, releasing her embrace. Kankuro shuddered as the warmth of his sister's hug left him. "You know you would never let that happen again…"

"That doesn't change anything," Kankuro turned to look his sister with a vacant expression.

"Blaming yourself won't change anything either! Nothing can change what happened!" Temari exclaimed, fed up with her younger sibling's self-loathing. "You need to let this go, you need to let it all go, or it's going to kill you, Kankuro! And I know that this isn't just about that mission, it's about your life and it's about this village and how much you hate it! It's about how much you hate _her_!"

Kankuro's voice suddenly failed him, caught somewhere between his vocal chords and his lips. In all of their arguments and fights about him had Temari mentioned _that_. She had never dared to.

The bile rose in his throat, scorching and hissing.

He took a hulking step forwards, his pupils small and dangerous looking, but Temari stood her ground, not afraid of anything he might say or do. "Listen to me, Temari-"

"No! You listen to _me,_ Kankuro!" the ponytailed kunoichi snapped back, cheeks scarlet red with dissatisfaction. This had been a long time coming; they might as well get it over with here and now. "I'm not just going to sit back and watch you throw away your life like this! I know life isn't all rosy and sugar-coated; do you think I don't know that? Do you think I never get into fights with him? Do you think I'm always happy?

"Kankuro, just because Tenten left you, doesn't mean it's always going to end that way…"

His heart stalled at the mention of the name he'd only thought of in secret. Quite suddenly, Kankuro's tongue became dry and he licked the inside walls of his mouth, trying, with little success, to generate saliva.

"Kankuro, you have to move on…"

Thin lips held tightly together, the puppet master craned back his head, moving his eyes away from his sister's persistent stare. A strong gust flew past the two figures on the mansion's balcony, flapping the pleats in the boy's pants and the large bow of the girl's obi.

They had reached a deadly stalemate.

Temari had nothing more to say; it was all up to Kankuro to either agree with her, or turn his back yet again, take his life further down that dark road she couldn't walk. She furiously prayed he wouldn't go there.

Fuming on the inside, his skin clammy, Kankuro closed his eyes for another long moment. He couldn't remember his life before all of that had happened. Had he ever been happy? Could he ever be happy again?

"Why, why are you doing this…" was all Kankuro could mutter, too tired to yell but too angry to leave.

For a second, Temari thought she might laugh. Was he really that dim?

"Stupid," retorted the girl, a smug smile playing on her lips. "I'm your sister."

"I know that, Captain Obvious…but…why? After all the times I've yelled at you, ignored you…" Kankuro said, still gazing at the clouds above him. They were such a lovely distraction; he was beginning to realize why Shikamaru did this so often.

"None of that matters, now matter how much of an ass you can be," Temari cut into his thoughts, bringing his feet back down to solid ground. She struggled to find the right words. "I know we're not some poster-family, that we have problems. But we're still a family. And…you know…that's just what you do…"

It was Kankuro's turn to smile as a single corner of his painted lips pulled upwards into something that just vaguely resembled a smirk.

She was right, just as she usually was. If anyone were to tell him this, it would have been his older sister and no one else. Something new rattled in his heart, a different kind of stirring.

"Temari," Kankuro tilted his head back down, still caught up in his awkward grin. "Why are you so damn corny? I mean, do you talk to Shikamaru like this when _he's_ having a PMS attack?'

Before Kankuro could even shield his face or squeal in terror, Temari's eyes flashed over as she raised a single flattened palm into the arm like a mighty blade.

"_Shit_!"

_**SMACK!**_


	5. Don't Turn Away

Disclaimer: Unless I've died and gone to heaven, the Naruto characters do not belong to me. Instead, they are the property of a one Masashi Kishimoto.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter five

After a volley of insults, apologies, and threats, Temari and Kankuro, in remarkably better moods, rejoined Gaara inside his office. They found him drooped over his desk, the dark circles around his eyes even more intense. There was no overlooking his fatigue. The young Kazekage had been up into the stark morning hours completing paperwork and filing mission documents; the meeting with the Rock villagers had wrung out his last ounce of spare energy. His head was nodding to one side like an obstinate baby fighting off an afternoon nap.

Kankuro inwardly cursed those blasted geriatric oafs. Did they think his brother was some limitless battery of chakra and power? Even the former Jinchuriiki had his limits. The selfish and the greedy just chose not to see past his tough exterior, hiding behind fear and ignorance.

"Gaara, you should rest…we don't need to leave immediately," Temari smoothed her hands over what must have been aching shoulders. Rolling his head in front of him, trying to stretch out the stiff muscles of his neck, Gaara grumbled, a displeased noise gurgling in the back of his throat.

"It's not that…" the robed shinobi groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose. He propped his elbows up on the desktop, speaking through laced fingers, "I'm beginning to understand Kankuro's misgivings…"

The two older sand siblings exchanged a glance that felt like a powerful electric spark, so alive that Kankuro could almost sense the hairs on his arms tingling.

"We all read the report and found nothing suspicious, Gaara," her eyebrows climbing high on her forehead, Temari placed a thin hand on the wooden, paper-laden desk, tapping her finger with an edgy "_dap-dap-dap_".

"They…they said that her family misses her, right?" pulling open one the desk's drawers, Gaara mechanically grabbed the nearest scroll, which happened to be the Rock village's. "Her file says that her mother is dead and that her father has been missing for nearly twelve years. There is no mention of any close relatives…nothing."

His eyes hooded, Kankuro considered his brother's startling revelation. All this time, he'd felt as though the foreigners had been concealing something. It was always a foolish move to make, especially when requesting a mission from another village. Withholding information only built mistrust, and that gave way to treachery. In the end, nobody won.

"Perhaps she has some sort of foster family," the puppeteer suggested, leaning up against one of the walls, his ankles crossed over one another.

Gaara shook his head wearily. "None."

"Hmph…" Temari grunted, snatching the scroll from her brother, who gave it up without a fight. She hastily unrolled the tube, eyes roving over the document. "Sure enough, seems like she's a loner. But, why would they lie, especially about this?"

With a dismal sigh, she callously dropped the scroll back onto the desk. It hit one of Gaara's elbows, stirring his sleepy attention.

"I don't know, but it presents a hazard to the mission," he answered slowly, returning the scroll to its previous location. "What we do know is that our client has some kind of hidden alibi."

"Yeah…_told you so_…" Kankuro said through a firm smirk, eliciting a brusque growl from his sister. "So are we still doing this?"

"Yes…the only way we can discover our _friend's_ secrets is if we find Mifune Hyun-su…we will treat this as a simple search and rescue assignment until any new evidence is shown," Gaara explained, trying to ignore the growing frown on Kankuro's face.

"So, just like that, we play into their hands? What if this leads to a _war_? What if they're trying to lead us away from the village so that they can launch an ambush?" the paint on his nose wrinkled as he grimaced fiercely. He did not like being toyed with; _he _was the one who was supposed to be pulling all the strings!

"No, its not going to be like that…I've told Baki everything that I know," unaffected by his brother's impatience, Gaara stood up from his desk, pushing the chair back with the crooks of his exhausted knees. "He, along with a squadron of ANBU, will keep the village secure in our absence."

This should have reassured the puppet master. His brother wasn't an idiot nor was he about leave his home exposed to an enemy invasion. Gaara had obviously taken all things into consideration and determined that this was the best option, the only option.

At least he was careful…

"I'm not going to allow another enemy to stroll into the Sand village," the Kazekage quipped, nonchalantly referring to the Akatsuki debacle from two years past.

Kankuro winced as their memories came into sync, to that night when his brother had been defeated, to that day when he had been killed…

Thankfully, the sacrifice of the village's eldest kunoichi and the efforts of Konoha's orange blur had been enough to save Gaara. But it didn't remove the suffocating pain in Kankuro's heart, that scar that had been cut deep inside of him when his brother had first been taken captive. It was like the cruel slash of a jaguar, the kind that tears out your intestines but doesn't kill you just yet, but instead leaves you to face another vicious blow while your innards lay warm and bloody at your feet. There is only constant agony while you wait for that killing stroke, wishing and hoping that the end is near.

Kankuro had been so powerless, unable to help, his puppets, all three of them, smashed to pitiful bits by the rogue shinobi, Sasori. The time he had spent immobile in the Sand village's understaffed hospital had felt like an appalling eternity, twisting and thrashing and crying in that cot, the poison biting at his body from the inside out.

All because he hadn't followed Baki's orders.

His belligerence had nearly cost him his own life, and even now, so many years later, that truth was crippling him. Every day that he saw Gaara alive and well reminded him of that stupid mistake, forced him to relive that moment as if to safeguard himself from falling into the same blunder again.

_How could I have let it happen again? _Kankuro thought, mouth agape like a trout.

His head suddenly felt very light, very airy, and for a second, he thought he might be dreaming; the world around him was drifting back and forth, swaying like the tipping bow of a ship as it's tossed by the ebb and flow of the ocean.

"Kankuro?"

The puppeteer jerked his head upright at his sister's slight intrusion, nearly forgetting where he was. He unexpectedly shot her a look of wounded pride, wordlessly betraying his inner struggle.

"Kankuro…were you even listening?" Temari asked nervously, removing her hands from Kankuro's broad shoulders. "Did you hear anything Gaara said?"

"Huh, what?" sputtering, Kankuro removed himself from his spot against the wall. He shook his head once, twice, wondering how long he had been trapped in his thoughts, hoping that it hadn't been too obvious.

"The mission begins the day after tomorrow, at eight in the morning," Gaara explained in his usual flat voice, already on his way out of the office, rubbing his sore eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure that his first stop was going to be his bed. "If you'll excuse me…"

"Of course, Gaara," Temari said, eyes closed as she smiled genuinely. The moment they were by themselves, she made a clucking noise with her tongue, staring at Kankuro penetratingly. "Damnit, who would of thought…why can't we ever get any _normal_ missions?"

"Because then what would we have to talk about on our days off, the weather?" Kankuro laughed, thoughtfully crossing his arms in front of himself, one of his hands cupping his chin. "Anyway, don't tell me that you're not at all curious?"

"Curious? _Hell_ _yeah_, but I still don't like the idea of being lied to. Stupid old farts…" she replied tartly. Rustling her lithe fingers through the four "rocket-booster" pigtails on the back of her head, Temari added, "Who knows what could happen…we could be double crossed. This girl could be fake, just a name and a face on some phony report. Shit, I hate this kind of stuff!"

Kankuro playfully tapped his lower lip, surprised to see his normally level-headed, older sister so fired up over a shady assignment. His arched his pierced eyebrow, the other one slanted downwards. The sudden shift in his facial muscles drew Temari's attention to that loop of metal, distracting her; the tiniest of grins crept onto her thin lips.

"I'm surprised that you wore that today. I could have sworn I heard you the other day, whining about how you wanted to rip that thing out…what stopped you?" she probed, happy that the conversation could be switched to something less dramatic.

"I guess I forgot…I don't really pay that much attention to it now," Kankuro answered innocently enough, rolling his eyes to try and catch a glimpse of his piercing. Sighing, knowing that he couldn't fool anyone, much less his incredibly perceptive sister, the large shinobi wiggled the coiled metal between two of his fingers.

"Does it still mean that much to you?" Temari asked curiously as she watched her brother toy with the ring of surgical steel in question, waiting for his reaction.

Silence.

Thick and heavy and impregnable silence.

Kankuro cleared his throat, preparing to speak but unsure of what he was supposed to say. Did he really have to talk about this now? They'd just wrapped up a similar conversation not too long ago…

_God…this is so troublesome…_ Kankuro thought to himself, clenching his teeth. It didn't dawn on him that he was starting to sound like Shikamaru, which was an irony in itself, considering the woman in front of him.

Kankuro knew that he couldn't answer her inquiry, not without lying to himself first. He really didn't know why he still wore the piercing, all things considered. It was a nuisance, it got in the way of his ceremonial kabuki paint, and it only served to remind him of the past, of things that should be ancient history. Did he feel honor-bound to keep it there, as a sort of tribute to Tenten? She _hardly_ deserved such commemoration.

The corners of his lips sagged into a pensive scowl, eyes averted to some uninteresting spot on the floor. He wasn't going to waste his time trying to hide his pain, that would just make it that much more evident.

"Not really…but it's not like I _hate_ it either," Kankuro conceded, shoving his hands behind his back, trying to occupy them with something besides fiddling with the cold, metal piercing. "Why? Does it bother you?"

The golden-haired kunoichi gave a curt laugh. "Kinda…I don't see why you're being so clingy."

"Well, don't worry your sweet little heart out, dear sister," Kankuro said spitefully, just barely treading in the safe waters of his sister's good nature. "We have other, more pressing things to concern ourselves with anyhow."

"Yeah, like getting your war puppet in working order. I swear, if Karasu's gears gum up one more time, I'll wring your thick neck until your whole face looks like it's covered in purple paint," Temari demanded, her voice low and cross.

A knife of guilt sliced into Kankuro's conscience, and he involuntarily gulped, feeling the hot gaze of his sister drilling into him. Her accusations were entirely found; literally weeks had passed since he had last taken apart the trusty marionette in order to strip away the dirt, grime, and blood in his joints.

"If that's the case, then I should be off, right?" he replied sheepishly, hoping that his sister had given him a chance for escape. Already, he could feel the need for another smoke break closing in on him.

"Fine, whatever, just make sure that you're set to go…we don't need a puppet who can't fight," griped Temari, waving her hand dismissingly, unaware of the sting that her words carried. "Oh, and by the way, the next time you leave your apartment, at least dry your hair all the way. The "Kanku-fro" really doesn't do much for you."

With a fleeting "goodbye", Temari soon took her leave, probably anxious to send a quick letter to a certain Konoha shinobi. As soon as her back was well out of sight, Kankuro shoved a middle finger at the now empty doorway. There was no way he'd do that to her face; the last time he'd been dumb enough to flick her off, he'd wound up with a snapped finger.

"Bitch…" Kankuro spat out, at a loss for words but finding that swearing did the job rather nicely. Now completely obsessed with the idea of puffing on a cigarette, the young man stomped out of the office, his body feeling very hot and stuffy in the warm kimono.

A rash of anger spread along his face and neck, blood boiling as his sandaled feet sped down the stairs, carrying him along swiftly. Kankuro was glad to finally be alone again, the whites of his eyes stained red with tiredness and his rising foul mood. There was no telling what he would do if his sister showed up out of nowhere again to castigate him. Although Kankuro normally wasn't the type to go into fisticuffs with either of his siblings, the thought of punching his sister's teeth out did bring a mild chill of satisfaction into his heart. Surely, she could find a dentist to fix that before she saw Shikamaru again, right?

Shaking his head, the puppeteer banished the immoral idea. Her jabs were only getting to him because she was right. Karasu was in terrible need for maintenance, and if he wasn't in top condition, Kankuro would only be a liability in the mission, forced to watch from the sidelines while his siblings hogged all the glory.

He hated that, being recognized through his association with Gaara and Temari and not because of his unique, misunderstood talents. So many people simply disregarded him, calling his weapons "dolls", not able to appreciate the delicate grace needed to manipulate and handle the complex workings of his battle puppets. It was so easy to become entranced with Gaara's unbelievable sand attacks or be stunned by the flashy movements of Temari's gigantic fan. What did they know or care about the understated job of the puppet master?

Kankuro bit in the inside of his cheek, trying to draw off some of his impassioned bitterness, realizing that he was losing himself to his own emotions. As he neared the exit to the mansion, Kankuro stopped, breathed deeply for a few counts. He was known for having a violent temper, but this was bad, even for him.

_There's too much else to do…I can't get caught up in some bullshit popularity contest…_ he scolded himself, the nervous tension leaving him with each drawn out exhalation. He pressed his forehead up against the hard surface of the wooden door, concentrating on where he needed to go now. _I need supplies…oil…string…poison…more string…_

There was only one place to go that Kankuro trusted, and it was a small shop all the way across town. He sighed, at least it would give him the opportunity to smoke a little; God knew he needed it!

Pounding on the door for emphasis, Kankuro slowly pushed it open. The humid, balmy heat of the midday spilled over him, causing every nook of his body to be covered in perspiration. Grateful that his face paint had been specially formulated to resist smearing, the slightly sweaty and very tired shinobi started off down the road, stalling for a moment when he neared a group of fetching young women standing outside of the mansion, waiting for any eager man, or woman, to take up what they were offering. Their devious glances were needless to say alluring, as were the wares that their low-slung kimonos revealed. Kankuro tore his eyes away from a particularly promising bosom, trying to stay focused.

Money wasn't the problem, he had more than enough to afford the services of one of those enticing flowers. Plus, it was safe to say that any woman would love to put him on their track record; to say that they'd fucked the older brother of the esteemed Kazekage would without a doubt double their business.

No, there was something else that kept him from spooning out a satchel full of ryo and choosing a suitable escort for a night of skin slapping against skin. He didn't lack the libido, just the confidence.

Another thing Tenten had robbed from him since her great disappearing act.

It had been so long since he'd been in the grasps of another woman, too afraid that he was going to be hurt again, and as a result he'd long since convinced himself that that sort of thing was now below him. Lust lead to emptiness, and commitment was definitely not his thing. To Kankuro, women were a bother, a needless diversion that yielded little reward for so much effort.

And yet, he couldn't seem to push away the natural urge to gape at the lovely entourage, raging hormones coursing through his bloodstream. Quickening his pace, Kankuro pressed on ahead, desperate to work his way past the roadblock of temptation behind him, fighting to suppress the stirring beneath the pleated folds of his hakama pants.

_Damnit, damnit, damnit…_ the young shinobi cursed, barely able to keep his inner desire in check as his craving eyes were forced to look at the street in front of him. Almost instinctively, Kankuro fretfully pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Nearly running, trying to remain calm, he anxiously started to puff. _Stupid whores…stupid girls!!_

He navigated the streets blindly, turning on intuition, stepping into alleyways that proved to be efficient shortcuts, shaving minutes off of his travel time. Kankuro knew the streets well enough to not have to think, but just act, the bevies of people vanishing far behind him as he raced by.

The cigarette in his mouth reached the end of its existence, the smoldering tip slowly fading out. He dashed it upon the hot gravel below him, another one close behind it, already half-lit before it reached the dry flesh of his lips.

There, just ahead! Kankuro felt his heart backflip against his ribs once the brown and gold painted sign sprouted into view. Panting, drained from his sprint through the village, Kankuro steadied himself, hands clasped over his knees, back hunched as his smoke-filled lungs wheezed uncomfortably. A swirling cloud of dust and sand still hung in the air, still trying to catch up to him.

Once he'd regained his breath, the brooding puppet master lurched towards the store, ignoring the rocks that were wedged between his blistered toes. Before entering, he crushed his current nicotine stick into a nearby ashtray-pole.

It was a small convenience store, quaint and almost never busy. That was why Kankuro preferred it; he hated shopping, hated the crowds and the squabbling. The old man who ran the shop, Mochihito, was an elderly fellow with multitudes of wrinkles on his face and large, bushy eyebrows that nearly obstructed his vision completely. He was short and stubby-looking, with a dark, cynical sense of humor that Kankuro generally appreciated.

A bell rang above his head as he strolled into the store, the top of his head brushing the cloth flaps that were hanging down from the door. The noise was abrupt and jarring, as the metal of the bell had long since rusted and the little jingles inside of it scraped against the flecked and aged iron.

"I should replace that damn thing, shouldn't I?" a soft, firm voice mentioned sourly, although the owner the voice was noticeably absent, hidden somewhere. Kankuro smirked, nearly laughed. Mochihito had made it a habit to say this whenever someone entered his store. But some things never changed. The sound of wooden chair legs rubbing against tiled floor echoed from behind the store's wooden counter, and then finally a familiar gnarled face popped into view, looking rather surprised and amused.

"Kankuro? Well, I thought you'd given up the puppet master trade…haven't seen you around here for ages!" he said disappointedly, staring at Kankuro with his cold, black beetle-like eyes. Leaning over the counter, he eyed the young shinobi reproachfully, drumming all eight of his skeletal fingers across the counter's worn surface. Kankuro sighed; the old man was being testy!

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Mochihito…would you like to slap my wrists or something?" Kankuro replied smartly, mouth twisted into a positively feral grin. "Look, I need some of the usual, plus some extra wire. Do you have that?"

"For you? Of course…although I must say, it's been a while…what happened? What's been occupying you so much these days that you've left old man Mochihito for dead?" hopping off of his four-legged stool, instantly vanishing, the elderly shopkeeper pattered around to meet Kankuro. Next to the extraordinarily tall shinobi, Mochihito looked like a mere child, barely coming up to Kankuro's chest level. "Well, you've grown quite a bit…what's Temari-san been feeding you?"

"Ha! Nothing, if I can help it…you know she burns almost anything that she puts on the stove!" Kankuro laughed, ignoring Mochihito's observation. Surely, the codger must be getting delusional in his ripe age, there was no way he could have grown _that _much in just a month.

"Hmph, I suppose…anyway, about those supplies you need, I have it all back here, as always," shrugging his shrunken shoulders and twisting one of his fur-like eyebrows impulsively, Mochihito scuttled past Kankuro, leading the way towards one corner of the store. Beams of light shot through the few windows in the shop, and in those shafts of light Kankuro could see the particles of dust become illuminated like microorganisms swimming in a murky pond. Mochihito was obviously having some difficulty keeping his establishment clean…he knew the old coot was too stubborn to hire a younger hand, always passionate about doing things "his way".

"So, what have you been fussing over these days? Clearly, it hasn't been Karasu," picking his way through bags of supplies and bottles of black liquid, coughing a little as some dust gathered in his throat, Mochihito started to hand Kankuro a seemingly random assortment of items.

"Well, I guess I've just been around…not much is going on," the puppet master answered as the pile of tools and supplies grew into a mountain. He repositioned his hands to better clutch a second packet of thin-wire that the Mochihito carelessly tossed towards him.

"What about that girl…can't quite recall the name, the one with the mouse-ears?" fumbling with a black canister marked with a white skull, Mochihito knew he had drawn blood when from behind him he registered a slight groan. "Is that so…"

"I'd rather not talk about it…again…" Kankuro said in an almost pleading tone of voice. "Let's just say that I haven't seen her in about four months, and then leave it at that."

"Fine with me…never liked women…" Mochihito retorted, "But yes, you didn't want to talk about that…"

"Indeed," the younger shinobi answered coldly, struggling to contain the awkward bundle in his arms. There was no way he was going to have another conversation about Tenten; his brain couldn't handle it, nor could his heart. "Is this it?"

"You sure you haven't gotten taller? You're not using steroids, are you?"

"No, I'm not, what does it have to do with anything?" becoming tired with Mochihito's idle chatter, Kankuro moved back towards the counter. He looked back at the ancient man who had yet to join him. There was a strange expression on his face, one part concern, the other uncertainty. He seemed to be thinking of something to say, a clever remark or shrewd question. And then Mochihito smiled, that wrinkled smile that was half-hidden behind the drooping wrinkles of his face, so concealed that it might have been mistaken for a frown if you didn't know what you were looking for.

"It's nothing…just noticing how much you've changed…" cocking his sun-spotted head to one side, Mochihito hobbled to his cash register, stepping onto his trusty stool in order to see Kankuro eye-to-eye. Still holding Kankuro with those beady eyes, the old man motioned for him to drop the items onto the counter.

His fingers skittered across the register, the pictures and numbers on the keys eroded away from years of use. He had the entire layout memorized; there wasn't another soul who could use the machine except him. With a knowing sneer, Kankuro knew that the old man probably liked it that way.

"It's nice to see you back here…nice to know that you still care about those puppets of yours…the total is 12,000 ryo by the way," finished with his tallying, Mochihito leaned up on the counter, going onto his tip-toes.

"The hell? Old man, you don't need to give me a discount!" Kankuro paused while fishing out his wallet to glare at Mochihito, his purple lips curling. "I know you can't afford to charge that little for all this."

But the adamant shopkeeper was already bagging his items up in a blue plastic bag, wrapping up the delicate items with tan packing paper, ignoring Kankuro's retort.

"12,000 ryo, please, and it won't be a coin more," a single hand outstretched and waiting, Mochihito pushed the filled bag towards Kankuro.

Looking at his purchase defeatedly, the puppeteer quietly handed over the amount he owed the man; there was no way of making Mochihito budge.

"Well, I thank you for your visit, Kankuro-san…don't let your next one be so far down the road," Mochihito chimed, counting the money in his hand absentmindedly, face now turned away from Kankuro.

Wrapping long elegant fingers over the twine handle of the bag, Kankuro muttered a quick "thank-you", wondering if he should slap down some extra money on the counter and then dash out of the store. It was a good plan, except that he knew the old man wouldn't do a thing with the cash, leaving it there for some punk kid to steal.

He gritted his teeth. Why the hell was the old man being so congenial? Mochihito wasn't the most giving man in the Sand village, nor was he known for such sudden acts of charity; he was a sharp-witted store-owner who knew that he needed to make a profit in order to keep things running.

Leaving the store, a somewhat empty feeling in his heart, Kankuro clutched the bag in his hand tighter. None of it was going to go to waste, he decided as he grinned enthusiastically, a bit beside himself with an unexpected rush of creative energy.

Tonight, the midnight oil was going to be burned clean through.


	6. In the Forest

Disclaimer: As always, I don't any of the juicy Naruto characters. They belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter six

Kankuro plunged into the forest, hands trailing behind him. He could feel the wind whipping across his hot palms, lifting the beads of sweat off his skin. The flaps of his puppeteer's hat twisted beside his painted face, allowing air to circulate beneath the thick fabric, flowing through his matted, caramel-colored hair and offering him some level of relief. With another silent leap, Kankuro bounded towards the next branch, the thick soles of his black sandals gripping to the looming bough. A thin layer of condensed chakra attached to the treads helped to stabilize him as he traveled noiselessly, effortlessly, through the deep woods that infested the Fire Country. The entire place was sun-drenched as the land slipped into the thick of summer. Kankuro was hopelessly happy that he wasn't in the Sand village; at least here the dense canopy of the forest shielded him from the salvo of heat from above. That, however, didn't stop his skin from becoming moist and clammy from all of the jumping and running.

The next limb was a bit farther off. He scrunched down, his thighs bunching, preparing to take off. Kicking hard, Kankuro sprung through the air, leaves and twigs brushing past his face as he aimed for the next foothold. As he made contact with a muted "thud" of rubber upon bark, the shinobi straightened his back and stood, shaking the bits of forest from his black clothing.

He felt a faint vibration, an almost tickling sensation, and he soon realized that is was the small, nearly imperceptible transmitter that was shoved inside his ear canal. Tapping it once out of annoyance, Kankuro pulled the matching microphone out of his pocket and affixed it near his mouth. A special adhesive on the bottom of the mouth piece kept it firmly latched to his salty, perspiration-covered face.

A rustle of whining static shot into his ear, and he winced.

"_**KANKURO? CAN YOU HEAR ME?**_" his sister's voice blasted through the electronic device, a little disjointed in areas and yet so loud that everything was glaringly audible.

"I hear you…turn down your volume, retard, or every creature within 50 feet of me is going to know where I am…" Kankuro hissed, his ear still tender. He shut his eye from the pain, hoping Temari had understood him well enough. The murmur of static fluctuated from a dull roar to a slight whisper as his sister twisted the volume control, trying to find a decent station.

"_Shut-up! I haven't used __**one of these**__ in a while, cut __**me**__ some fucking slack!_" the golden-haired retorted over the communication device, the anger obvious in her voice. Her voice was fading in and out and she fought with her transmitter. "_**Stupid **__thing!_"

"_Cut it out, you two! We don't have time for this…_" Gaara intercepted annoyingly, halting whatever smart-ass remark Kankuro had been planning to say. "_Have you all positioned yourselves accordingly?_"

"Yeah, yeah…I'm nearing my post…" Kankuro bit his tongue, playing with the microphone on his cheek, making sure that it was secure.

"_Me too,_" concurred Temari, her voice now at a more reasonable, controlled volume.

"_Good. As we planned, we'll continue to scout this area over the next hour. Afterwards, I'll meet you both back at the rendezvous point. If you meet any kind of resistance, radio us and we'll try to provide back-up. Likewise if you find any signs of the target,_" Gaara instructed. They had gone over all this before leaving the Sand village, but it was protocol to recap their objectives before officially beginning a mission, and he wasn't about to alter that. Another round of soft static, and then his monotone voice echoed in Kankuro's ear again, "_Any questions before we start?_"

"When do we eat?" Kankuro teased, a hint of playfulness in his voice. There was a sudden click as Gaara turned off his transmitter.

"_Kankuro, you are so stupid…can you go five minutes without saying something lame?_" Temari muttered; Kankuro could tell she was rolling her eyes at that one.

"Nope, and it's all for you, dearest sister," grinning lowly, Kankuro laughed as a second, similar click resounded in his ear piece. Finally, silence once more.

He left the microphone where it was in case either of his siblings decided to radio him up and then sat on the sturdy branch, smoothing his tight calves with his gloved hands. The stack of scrolls strapped to Kankuro's back arched as he bent over, the muscles of his abdomen sore and throbbing. His stomach quivered as he touched it gingerly, wishing that he'd not exercised so vigorously the night before. Five hundred sit-ups followed by another five hundred push-ups had seemed like a nice routine at the time, but now, nearly doubled over in a stifling dull ache, Kankuro realized it hadn't been the wisest course of action.

But he just couldn't help it. After arriving home from Mochihito's shop the previous day, his face had literally changed to the color of spoiled milk when he discovered that several of the seams on his pants had actually ripped from the girth of his waste. That had been motivation enough to launch into a spur of the moment workout.

It would be a while before he regained his pride and joy six-pack, but the fact that he had been able to squeak through the torturous slough of exercises meant that he was off to a good start.

"God damn if it doesn't hurt," slowly picking himself back up, tugging on a branch, Kankuro groaned loudly as he stretched his midsection. A throng of birds exploded from a nearby cluster of leaves, startling the puppet master. "Shit!!"

Catching his balance in the nick of time, Kankuro waved his one arm in the air, centering his feet once more on the sturdy limb. It was a good thing Temari wasn't around; she'd have a field day watching him nearly stumble headfirst off a tree, flapping his arms like an out of place penguin.

They'd already been in the forest for nearly four hours, splitting up after two in order to cover more ground. As the trees surrounding him became more numerous and concentrated, Kankuro could tell he was getting a little nervous, nerves jumping around in the pit of his gut. From his current position, Konoha's border was only a few hours away. He felt too close to that place, to that_ person_.

They had met here, out of chance and dumb luck, two years ago. Nothing could have prepared him for that, stumbling onto his great find, that pretty, unique girl with the buns in her hair. Their initial encounters were fueled with battle, constant fighting, both literal and figurative, words and blades being the weapons of choice. But soon anger carved the foundation for something different, something strange and beautiful and frail.

He could still taste her on his tongue, feel her supple, milky skin on his fingertips. Even now, after months spent trying to hate her, the memory of Tenten tainted his mind, killing him like some delicious poison. It was because of her that he'd started smoking, because of her that he'd lost his own sense of being.

Losing track of time, Kankuro slapped his own cheek admonishingly, since his sister wasn't here to do it for him.

Setting off again, refreshed after the short break, Kankuro sped through the branches, his mind pulled into several different thoughts, trying to focus on his mission, fighting to forget those olive eyes and brown, near black, hair that always smelled of shampoo and metal polish.

His deep green eyes squinted at the thought of sniffing her silky tresses, roving his fingers deep into her scalp. It was painful and titillating at the same time, and Kankuro became incensed at himself when he noticed that he was actually getting an erection from the faint memories of everything that had once been his.

Nails scratching the bark of another tree, Kankuro pounced cat-like amongst the many trees, the ash and the oak, torn in two between hate and loneliness.

If he regretted anything, it was not being able to taste the "goodbye" in their last kiss. It had instead been a thing of courtesy, tinged with acidity, one last bad memory to remember her by.

A humid breeze decorated with fallen foliage swirled in the air. Breathing steadily, Kankuro considered each green leaf as it danced upon the invisible stream of air, absentmindedly wondering non sequitur thoughts.

The parade of leaves suddenly shifted course for a fraction of a second, steering to the left a little before falling back into their normal forward drift, and the puppeteer frowned, disconcerted.

Stopping to rest on a low-hanging branch, Kankuro crouched low on his hands and feet, trying to press himself as tightly against the limb as possible. His senses had detected something unusual, something wrong. But it was subtle, could have just been a fluke.

He scrunched his noise, trying to see if he could smell powder, a smoke bomb, poison, anything.

All of the trees seemed to be frozen in fear, Kankuro's caution making them wary. Not a single branch was swaying in the deadened breeze and the murmur of the forest was now gone. A ripple escalated up his spine, the wispy hairs on the back of his neck prickling with guarded anxiousness.

There was a nasty presence close-by, something or someone was radiating the intent to hurt, to kill. He regarded all of his surroundings carefully, trying to pick out where it might be coming from.

There was a rustling not far away, so faint that it could have just been a small animal.

Kankuro ground his teeth together. The sound of scraping enamel sounded peculiarly loud in his ears.

He brought his hand up to switch on the microphone near his lips, nearly forgetting that it was even there. There was obviously someone near him, and judging by their ability to remain so satisfyingly concealed, they were not going to be friendly.

Just before he could radio either of his siblings, something silver whipped past his face, so blazingly quick that he nearly missed it. Kankuro barely had time to breath before another needle-like object cut through the air, hornet-fast. The mouthpiece attached to his face was ripped from his skin with a painful tear that forced him to jerk his head back. His eyes darted to the right, only to realize that the small device was impaled on the tree, sparks of electricity shooting from it. Kankuro stared at the broken microphone in horrified silence, momentarily frozen.

_Shit! Shit! Shit! What the hell!_ quickly scrambling away from his defective hiding spot, Kankuro leapt into a cluster of leaves. Whoever had destroyed his only link to his brother and sister was not fooling around and they had deadly aim.

Safe within the shadows of an elm tree, Kankuro slowly and carefully slipped the three summoning scrolls from his shoulders, pulling away the bandages with unwavering hands. He needed to keep calm, needed to breath. But most of all, he needed to find his attacker before they turned him into a pincushion.

They still had yet to make another move, and this gave him the few precious seconds he needed to set up his main weapon, Karasu, the wooden frame appearing out of a small poof of white smoke. Forming blue string of chakra between each of his fingers and an individual part of the puppet's body, Kankuro crept closer to the edge of his leafy cage, peering out into the hushed forest, wondering where and when the next strike would come. He twitched his fingers, bringing Karasu in front of him, his clean, freshly lubricated joints moving deftly and silently.

Every second seemed to stretch into an hour as both puppet and puppeteer kneeled at the ready, waiting for whatever might come. He swallowed hard, noticing that since the initial senbon attack, he had not since noticed his enemy's aura.

It was going to be risky, but Kankuro knew that he had to take a gamble. Stretching the chakra strings gradually, the shinobi pushed Karasu out from the security of the thicket, hoping that his foe would take the bait, attack the decoy and in doing so reveal their position.

The very moment the puppet was out in the open a shower of senbon became embedded into his wooden body, and Karasu reeled back involuntarily. Kankuro snarled. The attack had been so unpredictably quick; there was no way he could track those needles to their owner.

Closing his eyes, the puppet master refocused his attention back to Karasu. Whoever was attempting to cut the mannequin into firewood didn't know that simple senbon wouldn't fit the bill; they were trying to pierce two-inch-thick wood with tiny needles. Kunai were out of the question too, Kankuro thought with a devilish smirk, for the entire body was fitted on the inside with a metal skeletal frame. Unless they were packing some serious heat, Karasu would be able to survive quite the beating.

Mind reset, emotions in check once more, Kankuro breathed through his teeth. Extending his fingers far apart, all four of the puppet's arms snapped off easily, floating menacingly. With a simple flick, vicious daggers erupted from the hanging appendages, secretly tipped with a lethal toxin exclusive to the Sand village.

_Come on…where are you?_ he beckoned his enemy wordlessly, itching for a fight now. With Karasu hovering like a nail bat in the air, Kankuro's eyes suddenly picked up a flicker of movement, not too far north, northwest.

With a quick intake of air, he readied himself.

The deep shadows of the tree's branches and leaves increased, becoming minutely darker. Deliberate shock struck Kankuro like a hammer before he suddenly felt something crash down from above like a falling star. His footing became dislodged, slipping, and then he, along with his attacker, tumbled loose from the tree. Branches, engorged like thick pythons, smacked Kankuro in the back, too sturdy to break and give way, pounding his skull while the thinner twigs lashed at his face, poking him, cutting him.

Hard, unforgiving earth finally met with his back, the air being crushed from his longs as a mysterious weight straddled his chest, pressing down firmly. Kankuro shook his head, trying to see clearly, so dizzy from his tumultuous fall. The disastrous impact had even jostled his teeth. He tried to blink, but couldn't for the life of him, too confused to think properly.

Kankuro was abruptly caught off guard when he registered something brush up against his left ear, something soft and warm. This unexpected sensation finally knocked the shinobi's vision back into order, the haziness in his eyes dissolving as the curious person atop his chest leaned over slightly, a flat palm squashing his throat. Though his eyesight was returning, Kankuro could hardly make out the person's face; the light spilling through the trees was catching them from behind at an awkward angle, enshrouding them in shadow.

"Found you…"

He gasped as the attacker finally spoke. It was a small voice, barely perceptible and subtle.

It was also a female's voice.

Jaw hung open in disbelief, spit gurgled in the back of Kankuro's throat as he struggled to breathe, the circulation of air to his brain cut off. His face blanched, the skin turning gray from suffocation. Something cold and thin glided through the loop of Kankuro's eyebrow piercing, lifting it away from his forehead.

"What…what are you-" he started to say as a wicked senbon needle was slid to its halfway point. Kankuro nearly screamed when all of a sudden the hand holding the needle ripped back, pulling the piercing clear out of his skin, splitting his eyebrow. He howled in agony as blood began gushing from the newly opened wound. "_You bitch!!! You fucking bitch!!!_"

A short laugh barked out as the offending person somersaulted away from Kankuro. Gripping his shredded eyebrow, Kankuro pitched forwards just in time to sneak a glimpse of his cunning enemy as she retreated, thought it was only a flash of red cloth and nearly ash-colored hair. Blood was leaking past his fingers, soaking into his glove, but luckily the wound itself was already starting to clot. The crimson fluid coagulated, turning purple, ironically matching the color of his kabuki paint. He couldn't believe someone had actually gotten that close to him so quickly and undetected.

Now infuriated, Kankuro scrambled to his feet, releasing the hand from his face to reform the chakra strings to Karasu. Instantly the war puppet sprang to life once more, chattering and clattering evilly, emanating the same wrath that was festering in its master. Teeth bared, Kankuro leapt back up into the trees, Karasu close behind him, his arms still unattached and fortified with those venom-tipped blades. Gazing out into the thick of the forest, eyeing the battlefield, the shinobi ignored the throbbing, stinging gash near his temple, focused on finding his nemesis.

By now he realized that she was using wires to trick him, tugging on a faraway branch in order to create the illusion that she was somewhere she really wasn't. It was an elementary tactic, but Kankuro really couldn't argue that it had worked splendidly on him. Casting off his humiliation, the puppeteer squinted cat-like, green eyes, trying to spot anything out of place.

There was a shimmering, a line of light, only for the briefest of moments. Memorizing where he had seen it, Kankuro visualized and followed the path of the string up into another tree.

_Found you…_he grinned sinisterly, thrusting his hands out and away, triggering Karasu to soar through the air, amazingly fast despite his bulky form. A shriek pierced the silent forest as the puppet found its mark, arms lashing through the leaves, carving bark and, Kankuro hoped, flesh.

A small person escape from the depths of the tree, launching herself into an adjacent hiding spot, but Kankuro was prepared. Twitching and pulling at the chakra strings, Karasu followed the girl tenaciously, hot on her heels. There was the clamor of steel clashing against steel, another muffled cry, and then the red-clad girl burst forth, face conveying obvious shock. Kankuro snickered; he was going to make her pay for what she'd done to his face.

He wrenched Karasu back towards himself, catching up to her in mid-jump. Brandishing a weapon that vaguely resembled a hand scythe, the kunoichi twisted at the midsection, whipping the blade around fiercely to guard her backside. The girl deflected the four swiping arms that were creeping closer and closer to her face, eyes wide and alert, taking care to keep up with the ruthless onslaught. Sweat was forming on Kankuro's brow as he labored to keep up with her lightning fast movements, drawing on all of his resourcefulness to keep Karasu in motion, to repel each of the girl's attacks. As he watched the nimble girl spring from limb to limb, the silver line of her curved knife fighting back at the levitating puppet, Kankuro had to admit that she was doing a commendable job.

But this had to end at some point.

Flicking his one hand, Karasu's disembodied head tore towards the occupied girl at full tilt. Its jaw snapped open, and a horrid drill sprouted out, whirring appallingly. Noticing the sneak attack, she abandoned her attention to the slashing arms in time to sink the tip of her scythe into the wooden skull. Gripping the handle tight, the girl reeled her hand back and then lobbed her weapon as far as she could, the puppet's head still attached.

_Good, but not good enough!_ Kankuro took stock of this new development, happy to see that the girl had given up her weapon in order to ward off Karasu's head, if only temporarily. Jolting his right forefinger, the eerie sphere of wood recoiled and spun back, the gears inside it churning and rattling.

Unarmed, the girl was now reduced to simply dodging Karasu's attacks, reeling and contorting her body into positions Kankuro had until now been unaware of. With a tug of his hand, a small orb shot out of the puppet's head, hurling towards the girl. It exploded into a voluminous cloud of toxic purple gas, enveloping the distracted kunoichi.

From beneath the heavy folds of the poison cloud, Kankuro could see that the girl had inhaled some of the gas; she was staggering now, teetering dangerously on the limb. Swinging around one of Karasu's arms, he walloped the base of her skull with the blunt end of it, causing her to keel over. Watching her body fall, satisfaction alight in his eyes, Kankuro expertly summoned forth Kuroari, placing him just in her path. The ominous, barrel-shaped puppet swallowed up the kunoichi, its front panel slamming shut once her body vanished inside.

"_Kuro Higi Ippatsu (Secret Technique: Darkness Attack)!_" Kankuro bellowed as he yanked apart Karasu's already disconnected arms to reveal several caches of senbon needles. Ready to deliver his vengeance, the puppet master pitilessly smashed his hands together, sending the needles directly into the holes and slots on Kuroari's body. There came the sweet sound of metal puncturing skin, and the young shinobi smiled wickedly.

He allowed his victory to seep in, absorbing pride like a dry sponge. Wiping the sweat from his drenched face, Kankuro admitted once more that she had been a tough opponent, one of his worst. But at the end it was he who was still standing; if only his siblings could have seen it, maybe _then_ they'd regard him with a little more respect.

Pointing a finger at his secondary puppet, Kankuro made a quick gesture, unlatching the front hatch.

"It's too bad, never learned your name…" Kankuro mocked his defeated foe, voice dripping with sarcasm as he lazily sauntered towards Kuroari.

Before he could gloat again, an indistinguishable shape charged out of the puppet's belly, porcupine-like and seething mad. A senbon-covered figure collided into Kankuro, who was completely exposed and vulnerable to the counterattack. The two fighters screeched across the ground, pushed forwards by the pure, raw momentum of the girl's tackle. Kankuro could feel the rocks pushing into his backside.

He gasped as his arms were nearly torn from their sockets, pinioned to the dirt floor with what he instantly recognized to be chakra strings, the same kind that he himself used. The blue extensions of chakra weaved up to his valuable fingers, lacing around them delicately and expertly. Mind steeped with confusion, Kankuro had to wonder if he was facing another puppet master; who else could manipulate their chakra in such a way?

"Double the pride," the soft voice spoke from above, once again on top of Kankuro's prone body.

Desperate, Kankuro feebly tried to twitch his fingers, hoping that he could still reach out to Karasu. With a twinge of pain, the chakra threads wrenched tighter yet, digging into the flesh of his hands, slowly drawing blood.

"Twice the fall…" Kankuro jerked his head away from the girl's face as she brought it close to his ears again, whispering in his ears with dulcet tones. Mortified beyond belief, Kankuro gave up on trying to summon any of his puppets as he noticed that he was beginning to lose any kind of feeling in his fingers. He knew that this kunoichi wouldn't hesitate to rip each and every one of them off. She was more frightening than his sister and twice as cruel.

The girl sitting on his waist fidgeted as she grasped one of the several senbon jutting from her arms, ripping it out as if it were an acupuncture needle. For a few moments she played with it like a cat, eying it coyly, as if she wasn't sure what to do next. Kankuro felt his insides slowly twist and turn as a baleful smile filtered into her noticeably bee-stung lips. Slowly, as if to savor every second of Kankuro's torture, the girl brought the tip of the needle hazardously close to his face, the sharp edge taunting his sanity, just waiting for him to crack under the pressure.

"How about we give you some of your own medicine?"

((A/N: Wow, haven't written a fight scene in a while! Hopefully you all enjoyed the read. I recommend reading the fanfic by Ninja Shen titled "Little Green Leaf" if you're interested in knowing which fic gave me a lot of inspiration for this fic's backstory.))


	7. Stifling the Jabberwocky

Disclaimer: Much to my own sadness, I don't any of the Naruto characters. That pleasure belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter seven

He was afraid.

Fear. Thinking hard, Kankuro couldn't recall the last time he'd been truly scared in battle. Maybe it was when Gaara had let the maniacal Shukaku in him take over, nearly destroying half of the Fire Country.

No, he wasn't even awake then; those damn bugs of Shino had taken him out.

Perhaps it had been that shitty fight with Sasori of the red sands, seeing his precious puppets be stripped down to their barest bones, being stabbed directly in the chest with that traitor's scorpion-like tail. It had been painful, abnormally so, but it hadn't stricken him with terror.

What was happening here and now, was.

Kankuro knew very well what was causing the agitation in his stomach, the tremble beneath his skin, and the horrible sensation of his heart climbing higher in his throat. He realized that it was all because of fear, pure and unadulterated.

The steely point of the senbon lingered close to his nose; the girl holding it glared at him like a tiger crouched over a dying animal. She parted her pink lips, flashing her teeth with another fiendish smirk that made him feel microscopically weak.

"The poison…how?" Kankuro asked meekly, knowing fully well that it didn't really matter; all things considered, he was probably going to be dead in a few seconds.

"Heh," slitting her eyes, the girl laughed, as if Kankuro did not deserve a proper answer to his life's last question. The puppeteer swallowed whatever air he could, his throat half-shut in panic, as she raised the piercing needle high above her head. "Those smoke bombs and venom covered needles? You've got to be kidding me…"

Trying to make sense of everything, the trapped puppet master figured that the girl was carrying some kind of anti-venom, and had taken it while inside Kuroari. That had to be it; it was the only way she could still be standing. And even with dozens of needles sticking up from her body, the girl was able to jam him onto his back. He had underestimated the kunoichi, and now he was going to die for his cockiness.

_Well fuck if this isn't a shitty way to go…_ Kankuro admitted sardonically, forcing his eyes to remain open. He was a shinobi of the Sand village, he wasn't about to die shriveling and screaming. With this set firmly in his mind, he braced himself for the end of his days, hoping that he would be missed six feet under. He imagined his sister crying in front of his grave, his brother silently grieving, and a wave of guilt crashed over him; how could he have failed so awfully?

She jerked her hand down, and at the last second his determination failed him; Kankuro winced, eyes shutting tight.

Something pricked his cheek. There was a slight twinge of mild discomfort, but nothing excruciating. Getting his eyebrow pierced had hurt more than that. He felt something warm oozing down his face.

If this was all there was to death, he wasn't sure why people were so afraid of it. This wasn't too bad, Kankuro concluded as he slowly unclosed his eyes, prepared to witness just what the afterlife was like.

The shock of seeing the very alive kunoichi hovering over was so sudden that Kankuro almost screamed. Was this some sick, hellish joke? Would he be required to fight this girl for the remainder of his soul's existence, locked in turmoil?

A breath of air slithered into his mouth. He realized that he was in fact not dead, and that, for reasons he couldn't even begin to comprehend, the kunoichi had not killed him. Kankuro gulped down the beloved bubble of air as he stared up into the pair of eyes honed on him.

They were the color of rubies, shining even in the absence of light, and the first thing that popped into Kankuro's baffled mind was _why_ he had the wretched luck to be pitted against a Sharingan-user. Was it possible that there was a lost member of the tragic Uchiha clan?

_God, how many commas…how powerful is it?_ Kankuro screamed mentally, straining to find those little tick marks in the girl's eyes. He knew that they would be swirling around her pupils like the wings on a pinwheel, but he just couldn't seem to spot them.

Quite abruptly, the girl's expression softened, losing their potency, the intent to kill leaving her. It was like the tiniest shred of hesitation had finally caught up to her lust for battle. She heaved, looking a little tired, and withdrew her hand away from Kankuro's face; there was something red splashed on the tip of her senbon. With one of her thumbs, the kunoichi smeared a line across the motionless puppeteer's cheek. Dumbfounded by this bizarrely intimate gesture, Kankuro's skin paled when he saw that he entire thumb was soaked with his blood.

"So, who sent you…" speaking in a voice so calm that it bordered on unnerving, the girl wiped her stained thumb across the grass of the forest floor. She calmly moved herself up Kankuro's body, settling on his broad chest. Confused as hell, wondering if this wasn't just another one of her tricks, Kankuro gazed at the girl cagily, not willing to give up his guard, even if she had yet to kill him.

From his peculiar vantage point, Kankuro was only able to make out the upper part of her body. What he _could_ see, though, was striking. Her chest and arms were clothed in a turtleneck of what could have either been deep mahogany or blood red fabric; the dappled light of the forest made it too hard to tell for sure. It hardly held Kankuro's interest as he let his eyes drop lower, to the bottom hem of her shirt that just barely covered her nipples. The remainder of her breasts were encased in a mesh-type material that stopped just below her ribcage. With the trained eye of a closet pervert, Kankuro secretly ogled those delicious mounds, wondering how he'd overlooked them during their skirmish. The adrenaline must have blinded him.

Perhaps his luck was looking a little better.

Trying his best to seem uninterested, the puppet master turned his vision back towards the kunoichi's face, noticing the thin blue scarf wrapped around her neck on his way up, followed by an unkempt mane of ash-colored hair. Dirt and twigs had become tangled in her curled tresses, as if she hadn't touched a brush in weeks. Dangling from each side of her face was a long strip of hair, wrapped in orange-colored yarn. Tufts of hair sprouted from the ends of the bindings, and Kankuro was strangely reminded of his sister's peculiar style of tying her hair back.

When Kankuro reached the girl's face, those red circles immediately ensnared him. Trapped in those ruddy pools, the scarlet makeup below and above her eyelids enhancing their color, Kankuro soon found himself being held captive by their mysterious influence. Was this some kind of genjutsu trick?

The girl stiffened her back, feeling the boy's tiny eyes staring at her. She wiggled her hips, snapping him out of his visual investigation. It was difficult, but Kankuro managed to look away from her eerie eyes.

"Hey, shit-head, I asked you a question! Who sent you?" she demanded coarsely, her vicious tongue surprising Kankuro. Despite her merciless disposition, he hadn't expected her to also have an equally foul mouth.

"And I should tell you _because_…" he replied with a little more gusto than before, the fear draining from him. Although the chakra strings around his fingers were still painfully taut, he didn't think there was any risk of having them splayed off.

"Because _I'm _the one with the senbon covered in poison. I cut you with the clean end, don't expect it be the same next time," she said maliciously. The red-eyed girl warned the shinobi with an experimental swipe.

"If you were planning on killing me, you would have already done so," Kankuro remarked. At this, the girl tensed a little, and the strings suddenly cinched tighter, as if to prove something. The puppeteer gulped; he wasn't out of the fire yet.

"Don't test me, rectum-faced sand-bat! You think you're the only one who's come here, guns blazing?" she snarled, bringing her face closer to Kankuro's. He could feel the heat emanating from her skin, matched only by the burn of her cutting insult. The girl widened her eyes with irritation, and in a rare moment of clarity, in which Kankuro was able to ignore the throbbing in his hands, he glimpsed a small ring of brown in the miniature seas of cherry-red.

He knew he had seen those plush-lips before.

"You're…you're Hyun-su? Mifune Hyun-su?" recalling the face in the Rock village's profile scroll, Kankuro tried to imagine the ash-haired kunoichi without her red eyes, visualizing long black hair falling about her face. Once he did this, there was no mistaking her slightly chubby cheeks or the delicate curve of her rounded face. The giveaway clue, however, had been seeing that almost imperceptible sparkle of brown in her eyes. "Your village needs you!"

"No, that useless village _wants_ me," the girl answered hotly, confirming Kankuro's suspicions and her own identity. Sneering, Hyun-su pulled her head back. Being too close to the puppet master had been a mistake.

"What do you mean? You were kidnapped, abducted…don't you want to go back home?"

Hyun-su scoffed. "Is _that_ what they're saying now? What a bunch of morons."

Kankuro raised his damaged eyebrow, intrigued. He was finally beginning to understand why she had attacked him so ruthlessly. Lips tightly sealed, the pinned shinobi waited for the girl to make her next move. He breathed heavily, watching as she bobbed up and down with his chest.

"You know, for a puppet master shinobi, you seem to have your own strings crossed," Hyun-su mocked, thin eyebrows drawn together. She scowled, but if it was from anything, it was irritation rather than fury. "Tell me, do you arrogant Sand shinobi _always_ try and kill innocent people? It is some kind of sick hobby? You macabre bastard…"

It was strange sight, watching this pin-cushioned girl telling him off, waving her one senbon in the air like a sewing needle. There was no way she could be immune to that level of hurt, but she appeared to be ignoring it well enough. As he continued to observe the girl on his chest fume and smolder, Kankuro's nose keenly detected a faint odor of copper starting to surround Hyun-su as more and more blood started to gush around each of the piercing spikes.

"You're going to die," he said bluntly, catching her off guard. He hoped that she would take notice to her own injuries, but instead she shot him an absolutely sour face, as if Kankuro was overstepping his boundaries. "You're losing too much blood. And unless on top of being able to live through that poison gas attack your body also contains over 20 gallons of blood, my guess is that sooner or later, you're going to die."

"You're a stubborn one. The last guy went straight into begging for his life. I've survived much worse than _this_," ignoring Kankuro's advice, Hyun-su idly flicked on of the several needles puncturing her stomach as if it were a splinter. "You're either very brave or very stupid."

"Funny how that is. Maybe I'm a little bit of both. But there's just one thing that you forgot," Kankuro said smugly, and he was rewarded when Hyun-su frowned a little. Nodding, as if to beckon her, Kankuro pulled his head up a little, shoulders barely parting with the earth beneath him. He opened his mouth to speak, using the girl's curiosity to draw her closer.

It was when she leaned forward, trying to catch hold of his whispers, when her breasts lightly pressed against his neck, when she tilted her head so close to his lips that he could almost feel the soft shell of her ear, that Kankuro suddenly clenched his abdominal muscles. His body bent in half like the shutting jaws of a crocodile, the puppet master snapped his one foot up, successfully whipping the unsuspecting kunoichi on the back of her head. For an instant Kankuro felt the chakra strings slacken; the blood began to flow back into his fingertips. They stung terribly, but it was a welcome pain that told him that he was once more in control.

Yanking his one hand out of the girl's trap, Kankuro quickly cuffed her across her jaw, knuckles cracking into bone and teeth. Hyun-su's head twisted clear to one side, the whites of her eyes blazing with alarm. Realizing that he had to move fast, Kankuro reached out, grabbing the scarf around her neck and pulling her towards him. If she fell on her back, the needles would only dig further into her; there was a chance that they could pierce a vital organ.

Already, he could tell she was unconscious; she was as limp as a cloth doll. Hyun-su crumpled lifelessly into Kankuro's arms as he sat up to catch her, careful that he didn't impale himself in the process.

"You forgot to bind my legs," grunting as he maneuvered around the senbon needles, Kankuro slowly rolled the cataleptic girl's body onto the ground next to him, using his own arm to prop her up safely. His one hand was shaking, knuckles pounding from the blow he'd dealt the kunoichi. It briefly occurred to him that he'd gone a little overboard, but time was not something he had a lot of.

He couldn't stay stuck here, wrestling with Hyun-su's comatose body while she slowly bled to death. Wrapping his hand around the closest senbon, Kankuro wrenched it out, ignoring the stomach-turning sucking noise it made. A thick splatter of blood instantly covered his fingers. Grimacing, the shinobi let the needle clatter to the ground, moving onto the next one.

Now that she wasn't struggling or pouting, the effects of her multiple injuries were starting to show. Her flesh was growing paler by the moment, the rosy color slowly trickling out of her cheeks and lips. Kankuro's heart started to race when the weight on his arm started to increase.

Temari was going to have his hide for being late, but Kankuro was absolutely sure that Hyun-su couldn't be transported safely. Raising a finger to her mouth, he was partially relieved to find that she was still breathing steadily. That at least overruled the possibility that some bit of poison had resisted whatever antidote she'd used. All he had to deal with was the blood loss.

Kankuro pulled another needle out of her side, tossing it aside. He'd finally cleared enough of them to allow her to rest on the dirt floor unassisted.

With both of his arms free, the puppeteer lifted himself off of the forest floor. He couldn't even guess where he was; the battle had taken him far from his planned route. The light from above was starting to dwindle, though, which meant that he'd most likely missed his brother's rendezvous.

They wouldn't leave the forest. If anything, Gaara and Temari would probably start looking for him. Scouring the area for a suitable place to set up a temporary camp, Kankuro also began looking for some decent kindling. A fire wasn't a bad idea. That way, if they passed by, the scent of smoke might lead them to his location.

Sighing, wondering why he'd been born a magnet for bad situations, Kankuro quickly got to work, keeping a close watch on the unconscious girl, making sure that her chest was still rising and falling.

* * *

It wasn't like Gaara to show impatience. Amongst his siblings, he was the quiet one, the one who brooded in the background, never speaking unless it was absolutely necessary. But even some dams broke, given enough pressure and stress. Kankuro's tardiness was proving to be a superb source of both.

His foot pattered on the ground, wearing a little bald spot into the grassy floor, covering his sandal in a fine layer of earthen powder. Next to him, Temari bit her lower lip anxiously, wondering if she should say something, try to make up some kind of explanation.

"Gaara, I'm sure he'll be here…" she said. The words came out dully, not even half-convincing to herself.

Gaara shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "You know Kankuro, he'll go into something blind, not thinking, and then we'll have to drag him back to the village."

"Have a little more confidence. It's not like he'd make the same mistake again," Temari said persistently, knowing that Gaara was probably right but refusing to believe it. The Kazekage made a face, still tapping his foot incessantly. "What, you really think he's in some kind of trouble?"

"Something like that. Kankuro's not the most punctual shinobi, but it's been nearly 20 minutes. I think he has enough consideration to radio us if he's going to be running a little late, Temari," Gaara answered flatly, honestly. Temari knew he wasn't one to wear his emotions on his sleeve; there was obvious concern in his voice, coupled with a little irritation and lot of seriousness.

Wasting no time, the two sand shinobi vaulted off the ground, back into the maze of the forest.

* * *

Hyun-su woke to the sound of a crackling fire. Fresh embers shot out from the small blaze, charring the immediate area around it. A few of the burning flakes scattered close, warming the ground. Her hair was damp, sweaty, and as dirty as ever. Desperate to be awake, Hyun-su gathered herself and sat up, trying to hold back a deep yawn.

She instantly become aware that much of her clothing had been removed, replaced with numerous patches of gauze and medical tape. Her hands flew up to touch one of the dressings, angry that someone had had the audacity to strip her. Thankfully, she was still wearing her knee-length shorts and a thick bra of white bandages was strapped around her chest

Her thoughts turned back to how she'd gotten here. There'd been a battle, puppets, countless senbon needles. And a man, well, a boy. She faintly recalled a painted face, that ridiculous eared-hat, and then finally, with a low growl of disapproval, his hand whirling around to punch her clean across the face. The bones in her jaw ached at the remembrance of that cheap, sucker-punch.

Hyun-su gazed deep into the orange and red tongues of the fire, deciding on what type of punishment she was going to dish out later on. The last scrap of daylight was dying out of the world, and if she wanted to escape, now would be the best time to do so. With the fading light, she could hide in the ever-increasing shadows, and when he least expected it-

A twig snapped nearby. Her eyes locked-on to the direction of the telling noise.

From a cluster of bushes appeared the puppet master from before, the one who'd apparently either saved or violated her. He moved towards the fire cautiously, a small collection of twigs and branches in his arms, never taking his eyes off the volatile kunoichi for a second. There were daggers in her intense stare, daggers meant for him.

"What did you do to me?" she demanded Kankuro, who in return infuriated her with a caustic smirk.

"I didn't _grope_ you, if that's what you're wondering," the puppet master drawled lowly as he tossed in a few more pieces of wood. He wouldn't dare tell her that the thought _had _indeed crossed his mind more than a few times. "Now that you're awake, can I have my hat back?"

He gestured towards the ground, and Hyun-su looked at the shinobi confusedly. The boy scratched the top of his head, and it suddenly dawned on her that the Sand shinobi's cat-like hood was missing. Without it, his shaggy brown hair was free to fall about his face, spiky bangs poking every which-way messily. One of her hands touched something made of cloth, and she wrapped her fingers around it. Holding it up to get a better look, Hyun-su realized that the shinobi had placed it under her head as a sort of pillow. She had to confess that it was a gentlemanly thing to do, but at the same it unsettled her. It just seemed a little odd, out of place.

"Here, take your stupid thing, I don't need it," Hyun-su said, throwing the hat half-heartedly. He snatched it out of midair easily and quickly put it over his head, still grinning.

"Well then, next time I won't be as nice! I'll use a jagged rock!" he retorted playfully, straightening the ears so that they both pointed up nicely. Seeing her so animated, if not a little grumpy, was a good sign. The blood was reaching her brain.

"_Go ahead_!" nostrils flared, Hyun-su impulsively tried to climb onto her feet, but a biting spasm of dizziness rocked her body, forcing her back onto the ground. She clamped a hand onto her one side, "Ow, ow, ow…you really didn't spare me anything, did you?"

"Can you blame me? Anyway, why don't you just be a good little girl and stay there and chill out," Kankuro advised the girl, wagging a finger in the air impishly. "We don't want those wounds to reopen, do we?"

"I don't know, why don't _you_ tell me, seeing as you're the one who put them there in the first place!" the flushed kunoichi slapped the dirt, scorning her own helplessness. "God, my sides…"

"You're lucky it's just that…somehow, the poison didn't reach your main organs. It must have leaked out when I pulled the needles out," he said with a slight chuckle. Kankuro sat next to the fire, pushing a few errant branches back into the burning pit, grinning incredulously. "When I was patching you up, I didn't find any kind of antidote or vials."

Her mouth formed an "o"-shape. Kankuro was frankly surprised that she wasn't flipping out again, shrieking at him to keep his filthy hands to himself. Instead, the red-eyed girl shrank back onto the ground, robbed of her previous zeal, and the two shinobi fell into a troubled silence. Only the insects of the forest were talking now, their chatter and buzzing filling the air with organic music.

It worried Kankuro that neither Gaara nor Temari had come to his aid; there was a slim chance that they might have regrouped back in the Sand village. If that was the case, and he hoped it wasn't, then he'd have to wait the night through and return alone with Hyun-su. While not particularly heavy, it was obvious she wasn't too cozy about returning to her village. She was sure to put up another fight and that would only complicate things further.

"Do I have to say it again? Poison won't bother me," Hyun-su murmured as she turned onto one of her sides. She winced for a moment as her body adjusted to the new position. As she spoke, the humor left Kankuro's lips, his brow knit with interest. "They must have wanted me back alive if they didn't tell you…But I guess if they had, you'd already know why I can't go back there. Why I won't go back there.

"I can't be affected by poison because…because…it's a part of me already."

A part of Kankuro thought the girl had to be quite touched in the head. But the other half, the Kankuro that had seen his own brother be contorted and twisted by an internal demon, had seen a shinobi who was more puppet then man, believed her. He digested the girl's confession, trying to persuade that dubious, skeptical part of his brain into trusting Hyun-su.

"I know it sounds crazy…" Hyun-su laughed a little, skewering the puppeteer with an harmless stare. She unclasped something from her pants and tossed it to Kankuro. The object in his hands felt familiar; he didn't need the pulsating light of the fire to tell that it was a metal forehead protector. "Can't tell you how happy I was to scratch that fucking forehead plate.

"When I was young, around 8, my village decided they needed an icon, a new breed of shinobi. You must know about the nine-tailed beast from Konoha and the Sand village's Shukaku, right?"

"You could say that," Kankuro curbed his amusement, not wanting to distract the girl from her story. With one of his nails, he traced the deep laceration distorting the Rock village's symbol on the plate. It took a lot of hate to do that.

"Well, they wanted to make something similar, but in greater numbers," the girl rested her hands on top of her bare stomach, fingers intertwined. "They took me away from my mother, told her that I was going to receive some _special training_. To them, _special_ meant continuously pumping me full of poison, forcing my body to accept the toxins until I started to produce it on my own, each of my organs generating a different kind of poison.

"I learned that I could release the lethal shit out of my body through my pores or in my blood. Even my tears could be filled with poison. It got to the point where I was pretty much afraid to touch anything, be close to anyone. I figured that I wasn't human anymore, at least not entirely."

The muscles in Kankuro's hand cramped as he gripped the metal plate tightly, like he was trying to squeeze the very ore out of it. Because of Gaara, he knew all too well what it was like to be excluded, to be feared and despised. Neither of them had asked to be made into what they were now, but they still had to suffer for it. His eyes narrowed fiercely, the anger building in his core. Suddenly everything, the battle in the forest, her immunity to his attacks, this whole damn mission, it all made perfect, disgusting sense.

"When I became a Jonin, the Tsuchikage told me why I'd been _created_, so to speak. Turns out they'd been training me to be their _ultimate assassin_," Hyun-su continued with a notable sadness. "One of my first marks was going to be one of the five shinobi leaders; I didn't stick around long enough to find out which one it was.

"Once in a while, those plutocrats will send some shinobi out here to drag me back, so I can fulfill their wishes."

She stopped to catch her breath. The puppet master had been so quiet, Hyun-su wasn't even sure if he was paying attention.

"Too bad I spoiled your good luck, eh?" he finally spoke up, returning her defiled forehead protector. He was trying to be funny, but tonight he didn't feel like his normal asshole-ish self.

"Yeah, with those war puppets of yours," Hyun-su responded somberly as she reattached the plate to the top of her shorts. "I have to admit, I never thought I'd be telling my stupid autobiography to anyone."

Kankuro snickered, casually slipping out a half-crushed box of cigarettes from one of his pockets. Fighting always made him crave a little nicotine, helped to bring his nerves back down to earth. Seeing most of Hyun-su naked hadn't been an easy chore to suffer through either.

Leaning over to light his cigarette on the bonfire, the puppeteer took a long drag, inhaling a delectable cloud into his hungry lungs. This was his first smoke of the day, and it felt like a dream. He nearly rolled his eyes with blissful rapture as every bit of him soaked in the nicotine.

"Want one?" Kankuro asked, politely offering her a cigarette. His act of kindness was answered with a curt hiss.

"Why? I've already got enough poison in me, I don't need to add any more," she replied icily, pushing his hand away from her. When she put it that way, Kankuro could understand her cynical logic. Feeling a little rude, the puppet master smothered his cigarette into the dirt.

An uncharacteristically cool draft disturbed the warm evening air, sending a chill down Kankuro's spine. It seemed as though the summer nights in Konoha were even brisker than those in his hometown. Shuddering, he furtively stole a glance at Hyun-su to see if she was trembling as well. She was hugging herself firmly, but she was resisted the involuntary urge to shiver, not wanting to appear weak.

Kankuro thought it was all rather amusing. Most of the girls he'd known were not so bull-headed, unless you discounted Temari. He already knew Hyun-su wasn't a pushover either; she didn't need to continue acting so feisty to convince him of that. Not since Sasori had anyone come so close to killing him and Kankuro considered himself among the lucky to still have a pulse.

"Your shirt is over there behind you," Kankuro said. As if she'd been waiting for permission, the girl twisted onto her other side to fetch her top. Like a hungry animal, Kankuro fiendishly stared at her lithe backside, at the gentle curvature of her spine. The stimulating view was hindered only by the interfering patches on her back.

Too soon for his liking, Hyun-su jammed her red shirt over her head and shoulders, poking her arms through the sleeves. Turning back around, she only just missed seeing Kankuro's roving eyes.

"Thanks," she said offhandedly, making sure that both of her breasts were fully tucked into the cropped turtleneck. It caused them to bulge beneath the fabric, but she wasn't about to give him another free show.

Warily eying the shinobi, Hyun-su's gaze zeroed in on the unpleasant tear on the left side of his face. He was looking at the fire now and the shredded, messy flesh was perfectly visible from that angle. Most of the blood had been cleaned away since she'd brutally torn out his looped piercing, but there was still a little bit of it caked around the wound. A strange, unfamiliar emotion swelled in her; this was the first time she was actually talking to one of her attackers, the only time she'd ever let someone live. There were a million ways she could kill him now, but Hyun-su couldn't find the motivation. Inwardly, she cursed her indecision.

Hyun-su coughed awkwardly. "Hey…I'm sorry…about doing that to you."

Faced with this suddenly somber version of Hyun-su, Kankuro realized that he somewhat missed the fiery girl from before who wouldn't think twice before slitting his throat. This new Hyun-su was sad and lonely-looking, struggling to find the right way to apologize to him.

"Heh…I've been meaning to take that thing out for weeks," touching the damaged skin, Kankuro smiled genuinely, not that smug grin of arrogance she'd seen before. "Guess I should be thanking you."

This floored the kunoichi. Not only had he saved her, but now he was actually _grateful_ to have his face screwed up because of her. Hyun-su couldn't deny that the puppet master was a curious, weird shinobi, hard to read and even harder to understand. Then again, he could just be talking nonsense, trying to get on her good side, buttering her up so that she would drop her defenses.

She knew that this completely possible. After all, he was going to eventually try and complete his mission, wasn't he? Hyun-su contemplated this wearily. It made her sick, thinking about her home village, about what they probably had planned for her. Though he had saved her life, the red-eyed girl couldn't tell what his true intentions were. The paint on his face made him seem almost jovial, but he was a shinobi, trained to kill, just as she was. And if she was forced to, she wouldn't hesitate to attack the puppeteer in order to escape. She wouldn't hold back anything this time.

No sympathy, no generosity.

One of her eyes started to blink wildly, followed by a shooting pain that made her gasp.

She clawed at her face, exasperated and franticly trying to remove whatever was causing the irritation. With her eyes blinded, Hyun-su couldn't see the bizarre mist sifting around her, slowly starting to envelope her legs and lower body. But she could feel it, a tickling, coarse sensation that caused her feet to kick and thrash. Kankuro immediately recognized the cloud of sand and dashed over to the confused girl just as she started to gag.

"_Gaara!_ _Stop it!_" he screamed, trying to brush away the encroaching sand. It immediately retreated at Kankuro's heated command.

Two figures emerged from a dark corner of the forest. When Kankuro spotted his sister's enormous iron fan, fully expanded, he suddenly realized what had triggered that earlier breeze.

Temari leered, blue eyes flashing when she saw Hyun-su next to the fire, still sputtering, a few grains of sand clinging to her windpipe.

"Good job, Kankuro."

((A/N: If any of you are interested, there are some pictures of my OC in my profile!))


	8. Projection

Disclaimer: As it stands, I don't own any Naruto characters; they are Masashi Kishimoto's property. However, Hyun-su is my intellectual property.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter eight

"_Momma!!" _

_The girl pounded on the man's backside, livid and frightened, trying to get past him so that she could reach the beaten woman on the kitchen floor. She could hear her mother moaning in pain, her voice warped and distorted as she tried to speak with a broken nose. A pair of hands grappled her, wrenching her to one side, nearly ripping out a handful of ebony hair. _

"_Let go! Let us go!" she screeched, fighting and biting the man. She didn't care that he tasted of filth and rotten food, only cared that her efforts were stalling the vicious abuse of her mother. Thin bare limbs whipped around wildly, tiny fingers pawing at whatever she could reach. _

"_Oomph!!"_

_The man belted her with the backside of one of his large, paddle-like hands, and she was sent sprawling to the ground. In an instant she was up again, racing on all fours like a cat at bay towards the crying woman. This time she was able to sneak by, scurry past the man's feet before he could grab her again. _

"_Momma!" heavy tears dribbling down her cheeks, the girl embraced her mother, comforting her, tucking the loose strands of hair back behind her ears. The bruises on her face were so swollen that both of her eyes were completely shut, and her nose looked as though it was broken in several places. Blood covered her mouth; a couple of her teeth knocked out, one of them hanging by the root. _

"_Go away!!" the girl cried at the man defiantly even though she knew she was outmatched. He surprised her by turning on his heel, stalking out of the room. On his way out, he grabbed a small bag filled with ryo, the reason for his _visit_. The entire house shook as the man slammed shut the door, causing a nearby picture frame to fall off from its hook. _

"_He's gone, Momma, he's gone…" sniffling and weeping, the young girl cradled her pummeled mother. Despite the severity of her wounds, the older woman smiled, reaching up to stroke her daughter's chubby face. It was an awful looking smile; her bottom lip was split on one side and her right cheek was bloated. _

"_Sssh…don't cry Baby, don't cry, everything will be okay…ssssh," the woman cooed, pulling herself up to hold the bawling child. She leaned in to kiss the girl's tears away, her purple lips soaking up the salty droplets. _

_Suddenly the warmth of her mother's touch was gone, replaced with an utter iciness. The girl looked down to see that the olive-colored skin on her face had become pale, nearly transparent in the stark, yellow light of the kitchen. Horrified, the girl released her once compassionate grip on her mother, wrenched apart with unhappiness, guilt and fear. The woman's body clunked onto the ground, stiff with rigor mortis. _

_Repulsed, the girl vomited, overcome with dizziness. She found it hard to look away from her mother, at her blank eyes that were still open even in death, at her mouth open in shock and pain. _

_And then the girl did the only thing she could. _

_She cried. _

-------------------------

Hyun-su awoke with a gut-wrenching sob.

Slung over Kankuro's shoulders piggy-back fashion, the kunoichi cringed frantically, half-trapped in her nightmare.

"Hey! What the hell?!" the puppet master tried to settle the squirming girl, tightening his grip around her wriggling legs. Keeping his balance wasn't too difficult; his three summoning scrolls were tied to his chest now, creating a sort of counter-weight.

The commotion caused his siblings, who had been walking in front of him, to fall back.

"Calm down! _Calm down!!_" Kankuro spat out, quickly letting the girl down from his back. She sat there for a short while, trying to forget that crippling dream. Noticing that her arms as well as her lower lip were quivering, the puppeteer knelt beside Hyun-su, unsure of what he should be doing.

This was the first time the girl had moved since Gaara's sand had accidentally knocked her out. Since then, they'd traveled slowly through the night, Gaara and Temari keeping watch ahead while Kankuro carried Hyun-su a safe distance away. This way, if they were attacked by rogue shinobi or brigands, the girl's life wouldn't be in immediate danger, and they could escape without unnecessary bloodshed.

While Kankuro was opposed to the idea of baby-sitting the girl, he knew all too well that out of the three of them, his skill in stealth was unsurpassed. Plus, he could move the fastest while carrying the weight of an unconscious human and still use his puppets to some degree.

He grimaced at the crying noises she was making. It wouldn't matter how well he hid himself if an enemy could hear Hyun-su stirring up a ruckus.

"Is she alright?" Temari asked, coming up to investigate. Rubbing one of the girl's arms, she looked at her brother suspiciously. "She seems messed up, you sure you didn't molest her or something?"

"_Shut up!_ Just help me out here!" he retorted crossly, patting Hyun-su's face. It was cold and sweaty.

Adjusting the iron fan on her back, Temari stooped to the ground, trying to get a better look. She was hardly trained in the ways of a medical nin, but years spent tending to her two brother's wounds had given her experience enough with some minor injuries. Kankuro moved out of his sister's way.

"Unless there's still some poison left in her body, it looks like she just had a bad dream," the golden-haired kunoichi stated, using the cuff of her sleeve to wipe clean her clammy forehead. "Hey, can you hear me? Hyun-su? Are you okay?"

At the sound of Temari's voice, which was new to her, Hyun-su slowly began to come around, batting her eyelashes sluggishly. Gaara, who had been quiet the entire time, strolled up beside the girl, peering down at her with his raccoon-like eyes. His shadow poured over her, alerting her to his presence, and she lolled her head back.

"Mifune Hyun-su," he said calmly, voice smooth and fluid. It was very much unlike Kankuro's, which was course and demeaning most of the time. But there was something about the boy that made Hyun-su guess that they were related. Cousins, perhaps?

"Yes?" Hyun-su answered carefully. There was little feeling in the young shinobi's eyes and he had said her name with only the slightest twinge of vague curiosity.

"I am Gaara, the Kazekage from the Hidden Sand village. My sister's name is Temari," the red-haired youth introduced himself formally. The girl next to her nodded and grinned, showing much more emotion than her brother did. The boy who had called himself Gaara then motioned towards the black-clad shinobi. "I believe you've already become _quite_ acquainted with my elder brother, Kankuro."

Armed with this new knowledge, Hyun-su glared at the boy with the painted face, red-eyes flickering with hatred.

"Where are you taking me? I told you, I'm not going back there!!" she said, face visibly flushed. Before she could open her mouth again, Temari squeezed her upper arm tenderly. Hyun-su nearly sent a coating of poison through the pores in her skin, ready to paralyze all three of the Sand shinobi.

"You don't have to worry about that. Kankuro told us everything, about what happened to you, and we're not giving you back to the Rock village," Temari explained sensibly. There was a tone of sympathy and compassion in the teal-eyed kunoichi's voice, and Hyun-su knew at once that she was not lying.

Hyun-su relaxed, her chest caved in with fatigue, and she canceled the flow of toxin in her body, the will to fight leaving her. These were not her enemies, it would seem.

"You're…you're not taking me there? For real?" Hyun-su stuttered, still doubtful that these shinobi wouldn't go back on their word. She'd seen far too many shinobi turn a blind eye to integrity for just a few extra ryo. Although Temari had spoken to her, Hyun-su kept her glare keenly fixed on Kankuro. She still didn't trust him.

"Yeah. For real," the older brother answered dryly. He stood a few feet away, returning her stare as if they were having a contest. "Because of you, we know that your old village is planning something against us. It's not like Sand shinobi to just ignore a double-cross."

Wrinkling her nose at the boy's pride, Hyun-su pulled herself off of the ground. It was his overconfidence that had allowed her to defeat him before, and she found it a bit disgusting that he hadn't learned his lesson.

"You can't take them that lightly. If you don't hand me over, they'll suspect that you know something," Hyun-su remarked coldly, brushing the dirt off of her backside. She then rustled her shaggy main of ash-gray hair, though it did little to detangle it. "What are you going to do then?"

The red-haired Kazekage made a sort of laughing noise under his breath, the corners of his lips turned up into a faint half-smile. She saw a part of Kankuro in the boy's expression, a slight show of smugness in the way that he was grinning. However, he held himself elegantly, and his arrogance was subtle, much unlike the puppeteer's blatant egotism.

"We will lead them into believing that you are dead," he spoke with a little lift, as if his voice had finally found its strength once more after being dormant for so long. "If they fall for our ruse, they'll be forced to seek out other means to complete their plans. In the meantime, my shinobi will try to figure out just what they have in store."

Tapping her chin, Hyun-su contemplated Gaara's strategy. While simple, it was also clever, and would work if she stayed clear out of the picture. But then a disturbing thought rattled her mind. There was a potential problem.

"You'll need proof, and even then, they might not trust you and send shinobi out here to retrieve my body. They'll want my organs for research…I know it," Hyun-su commented irritably, wondering if Gaara had considered this as well. She wasn't afraid of death, hers least of all, but Hyun-su didn't want her blood and body being used as a template for another one of the Rock village's science experiments. If they started to mass produce assassin's like herself, and found a way to govern them like slaves, the whole shinobi world could be turned upside-down.

"That's why you'll be hidden outside of the forest. We can't bring you back to our village; after the forest, it'll be the next place they'll look," Temari interjected sagaciously. Hyun-su's attention turned to the fan-wielding kunoichi, who was curiously smiling. "Therefore, Kankuro will be taking you to Konoha."

Kankuro could have pissed himself the moment he registered his sister's words. Thankfully, for his underwear's sake, he'd not had anything to drink that day. This was _not _part of the plan!

"Konoha?! _I'm_ taking her to _Konoha_?" he said intensely, his cat-like eyes squinting angrily. "When did we decide on that? I thought we were going to dump her somewhere in the Rain country!!"

"Yeah, well, we really aren't on the best of terms with them, not like we are with Konoha and Tsunade-sama," Temari pointed out casually, waving her hand dismissively, as if this had been their plan all along.

"Why can't Gaara take her there then? He can go and work things out with the Hokage personally!" Kankuro growled at Temari.

"Because, and I hate to admit this, you're the best candidate for getting her there undetected. Who knows if the Rock village hasn't already deployed some shinobi? We need someone who can get her there fast and in secret," Temari said, making an infuriating tut-tutting noise. Groaning, Kankuro crossed his arms; his expertise at sneaking-around was once again biting him in the ass. "Also, someone has to stay here and make it look like there's been a deadly battle here. My fan can cause enough damage, as can Gaara's sand."

Grabbing the collar of Temari's kimono, Kankuro pulled her aside, rage churning in his eyes. Putting their faces very close to one another, he whispered harshly, the beads of sweat falling from his chin as he shook with anger.

"I am _not_ doing this! You know very well why I refuse to step one foot inside Konoha alone," snarling ferociously, Kankuro struggled to keep his voice down. "And another thing, have you _seen_ what that bitch did to my face?! How do we know she won't try to pull some kind of stupid shit once the two of you are out of the way?! This is _insane_!"

"I can't help that you got your ass handed to you by some chick…that's your own fault for not sticking to your guns," Temari bit back, though she had noticed the gash above his eye earlier. She then twisted her brother's hand off of her, driving her nails deep into his skin. "And how dare you even attempt to disobey your Kazekage just because you're too _dickless_ to go by yourself!"

Her scornful insults caused Kankuro to settle, reconsider his thoughts. He was making excuses, stupid ones, to cover up his own fear. Huffing, the broad-shouldered puppet master shot his quarrelsome sister one last mean-spirited glance before facing Gaara.

"Okay, I'll do it," he acceded grudgingly, pushing his lower lip out to further show his frustration. "I swear to God, this had better work."

"It will. Just do your job and don't mess up," Gaara said, narrowing those dangerous eyes of his. Kankuro scoffed at his brother's request, shrugging his broad shoulders.

"Don't worry about me, just make sure this place looks like hell when I get back," Kankuro countered. Hyun-su saw that the puppeteer's offensive attitude was kept in check around Gaara and not Temari. She wondered if this was because of Gaara's status as Kazekage, or because Kankuro simply liked his brother more. The puppeteer cracked his knuckles loudly as he looked apathetically towards Hyun-su. "By the way, don't think for one second that I'm carrying you there; I'm not a chauffer."

"Aww, too bad. I was looking forward to that!" Hyun-su said snidely. She heard Temari snickering behind her and smiled; at least one of them had a funny-bone in their body. The two other Sand shinobi had the collective humor of a turnip.

"Good. I expect to hear from the Hokage soon after you arrive in the Leaf village," Gaara spoke to his siblings and the missing nin. He fought the headache brewing between his eyeballs, wishing that, for once, his suspicions had been wrong. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the tattoo-like scar on his forehead scrunching as he frowned, Gaara was grateful that Kankuro was finally coming around. He did _not_ want to argue with his loud-mouthed, cantankerous brother. Things were bad enough already.

"What if she refuses me safe shelter?" Hyun-su asked, still unsure that the Kazekage's plan was foolproof, despite his confidence. They were all so optimistic that things would go off without a hitch, but all it took was one mistake, one accident, and the whole plan would go up in a blaze.

"She won't. I'm on good standing with Tsunade-sama and her most esteemed shinobi. We have come to each other's aid before in times of crisis; I don't see why that would have changed," Gaara responded softly, shifting the weight of the immense gourd from one shoulder to the other.

"Whatever. Let's go," repositioning the scrolls back into their original position, Kankuro chewed on one of his nails anxiously.

"Are you _that_ eager to get rid of me?" Hyun-su teased. It was hard to believe that the bigheaded man chomping on his finger was the same person who had been so genuinely kind to her the night before. It was a bit like Jekyll and Hide.

"Yes, actually, I am," Kankuro answered dully, ready to get his part in this mission over with. He gestured a "farewell" to his siblings before turning away quickly. The last thing he wanted to see was Hyun-su's puckered brow; it would only make him regret acting so insensitive.

It wasn't so much that Kankuro didn't like being around Hyun-su, for even if she wasn't too pleasant on the ears, she was certainly easy on the eyes. Kankuro just couldn't help that the thought of seeing Tenten again made him downright queasy. The quicker he got to Konoha, the faster he could leave this girl and his past behind him. There was no reason to get too friendly or attached.

His feet felt strangely heavy as he dashed into the forest. In the background, he could hear Hyun-su trailing him, her feet lightly patting against the sturdy boughs as they both ascended into the tree-tops. Back in his element, Kankuro found it surprisingly easy to forget his ultimate destination so long as he focused on the journey there instead. A few minutes passed and he suddenly picked up speed, deciding that their current pace was much too slow.

The night air had left much of the forest covered in a light veil of dew, a shimmering blanket that seemed to come alive as the morning sun rose into the sky. Though it made the bark of the trees slippery, Kankuro was still able to soar from branch to branch like an acrobat.

Peeking over his shoulder, he saw that Hyun-su was gradually starting to lag behind. The puppet master duly noted that she wasn't placing her weight fully on her right foot, and that every so often, she would touch a spot on her side, as if to nurse a hidden wound.

At the next branch, Kankuro came to an abrupt halt, waiting for the kunoichi to catch up to him. Scowling, he barely heard the girl's steps as she bounded to his side, an inquisitive look on her face.

"Why are we stopping?" Hyun-su said, keeping a straight face while she clutched her stomach. Her demeanor was cold and uncaring once more, and Kankuro realized that it was probably for the best if she acted this way.

"For you. I can tell your injuries are still bugging you. Do we need to stop?" Kankuro asked brusquely, annoyed that he had to bother with such things. "I thought I made it crystal clear that I wasn't going to drag you there on my back. I plan on sticking to that promise."

"Like I care…" her reply was ripe with hostility. She gazed at him with distant eyes. "Who said I wanted…said I _needed_ your help?"

"Look, I'm only doing this because my brother ordered me to," grumbled Kankuro, put off by Hyun-su's ungrateful attitude. He was tired, hungry, starving for a cigarette, and he wasn't about to take shit from anyone, much less a girl. "If you think I'm enjoying any of this, you're greatly mistaken. I couldn't care less about you or your safety."

He immediately knew he had said something wrong when Hyun-su's eyes glistened a little. Her mouth became a tiny line on her face as she rolled her lips inward. Suddenly, Kankuro didn't feel like such a big man anymore.

"Then why didn't you kill me earlier? Why are you being so mean?!" Hyun-su cried out, nearly shouting at the despicable black-clad shinobi. Before Kankuro could do anything to stop her, the kunoichi blitzed by him, launching herself into the towering limbs of a faraway oak.

Shocked, Kankuro watched as Hyun-su disappeared into the foliage, the long tendrils of her blue scarf flapping behind her like the tails of a kite. When the heels of her sandals vanished into the leaves, Kankuro finally snapped out of his stupefied trance.

"_Fuck!_" Kankuro barked at the empty space in front of him as surprise melted into anger. He instantly began pursuit of the girl, furious at himself for losing his cool like that.

Once again, Kankuro had taken his loathing for Tenten and projected it onto someone entirely unrelated, just like he had done with Temari. Being forced to travel to the Leaf village had unraveled the already fragile threads of his stormy temper. Having to chaperone Hyun-su on top of that had simply crushed his breaking point, especially when she'd refused his protection.

But it wasn't her fault. Hyun-su couldn't help what was happening, what had happened between him and the Konoha weapons-expert. How could he have been so childish? He wanted to yell and scream and spew fire and brimstone at Tenten, but in her absence, he'd taken his hate out on Hyun-su instead, as if it were all the same.

Next to that campfire, she'd confided in him, trusted in him.

Who knew how she felt about him now.

Swinging around another tree, Kankuro pictured the countless kids back home that he'd tortured and bullied, their pudgy faces covered in scrapes and cuts. It had all been in good fun, he'd never _really_ hurt any of them, just rough them up a little so that they ran away crying for Mother. As he was the Kazekage's brother, no one could lay a finger on him anyway.

But Hyun-su wasn't a little kid, and he wasn't in the Sand village. She was a crucial part of the mission, one that he had monumentally screwed up.

Just like that one time.

Grinding his lower lip steadily, Kankuro felt disgust roiling in his core. For a second, he forgot that he was in the Fire country, and instead of tall trees and a grassy floor, he saw a rank swamp all around him.

He had given the bastards their money, agreed to their terms. They had the suitcase firmly in their care and the ryo had been counted. All that was left was the exchange. Tucked in the shadows of the decrepit shack, Kankuro had seen the terrified look on the child's face, his cheeks covered in fat tears, the bruises on his arms and legs.

And then the leader had demanded more.

Kankuro could still remember what he had said, that stupid one-word answer that had sealed the kid's fate.

His name had been Tsuneo.

A low-hanging limb came flying at him, and Kankuro ducked underneath it. He was dazed for a second. Shaking his head, straining to think clearly, Kankuro realized that as long as Hyun-su was alive and not in the Rock village, there was still hope.

This mission wasn't over yet, the puppeteer decided with a low growl. There was a still time to pick up the pieces and salvage it. But first he had to find Hyun-su.

_God damn she's fast!_ Kankuro thought to himself as he prowled after her. Luckily, the kunoichi wasn't being as secretive this time around, and wasn't taking any great pains to cover her tracks. Every so often, he'd spot a ripped leaf or a snapped twig, a sign that she'd gone this way. It was a faint trail, but Kankuro followed it expertly, living up to his sister's expectations.

Kankuro surged around a tight corner, the muscles in his legs and stomach groaning and burning, but he willed himself to move even faster, somehow compelling the ache in his body to fade away.

He was not going to fail. Not again.

A guttural scream seemed to tear the forest in two, and Kankuro's face paled when he thought it might have come from Hyun-su. But the echo that traveled amongst the trees didn't carry her sarcastic, mordent tone of voice, but rather one with a more masculine resonance to it.

Following the ricocheting cry, Kankuro instinctively pulled out his top-most scroll. A series of hand-signals later, and his faithful puppet Karasu spilled out from a puff of summoned smoke, its wooden mouth clicking eerily. Maneuvering the puppet through the crowded branches, Kankuro soon spotted two shinobi clashing in the canopy up ahead. His keen eyes quickly picked out Hyun-su as she wheeled through the air, fighting off what could only be a Rock village assassin. He wasn't completely positive, but Kankuro dimly recalled seeing shinobi from that village wearing tan and gray garb similar to those that this man wore.

Their bodies flew through the limbs and boughs, flickering in one place and then another, and all Kankuro could do was watch and wait for a viable opening. With Karasu at the ready, the puppet master placed himself as close as he could, staring in awe at just how deftly honed the scarlet-eyed girl was in battle.

Even with a sizable handicap, she was a creature of speed, magnificent and intimidating as she sprung at her enemy, and Kankuro recognized the sickle-like weapon in her hand at once. There wasn't a shred of emotion on her face as she knocked a torrent of shuriken out of the air, the little metal stars flinging in all directions like swatted flies. One of the projectiles sunk into the tree Kankuro was perched on, nearly slicing off one of his toes.

Leaping backwards, Hyun-su flicked both of her hands. Iridescent blue lines zipped from her outstretched fingers and shot towards the shinobi; with a firm tug, the threads of chakra looped behind him, ensnaring his neck. The man gurgled helplessly, a pathetic noise that seemed to grow as Hyun-su yanked the thin chakra rope. Quickly twisting the string around several of her own fingers, the kunoichi gave another vicious pull, slitting open her skin as well as the man's Adam's apple.

_What is she thinking?!_ Kankuro watched in disbelief, unable to see that her trickling blood was flowing down those tiny, nearly invisible strands of blue energy.

The shinobi gave a terrified yelp as the river of red finally met the fresh cuts on his vulnerable neck. He lurched, coughing up a flood of vomit that covered his shirt before plunging to the ground far below. Smirking, Hyun-su released the chakra threads from the dead assassin. His carcass was splayed across the grass now, face and body soaked in blood and sick.

Though the battle was over, Kankuro wondered if it was safe to approach the violent girl. Had she calmed down, or would Hyun-su lash out at him next, releasing her pent-up aggression on anything and everything in her path? Kankuro saw her looking around warily, those red-eyes searching and hunting for another enemy.

Just as Hyun-su spotted the familiar figure of Karasu looming some 50 feet away, a pair of hands grabbed her arms, wrenching them painfully to her sides.

"Watch it!" Kankuro bellowed. His warning came a second too late; the kunoichi was soon wrestled onto her back, and he could hear her screaming and hissing. He grit his teeth as Karasu exploded into action, blades already unsheathed as it rocketed at the second Rock shinobi, who was many times the size of his teammate.

Arching and flexing his fingers as fast as he could, Kankuro sliced the assassin across his back, digging the venomous tip of Karasu's daggers past cloth and into rough, leathery flesh. A rasping, barbaric snarl escaped the bandit's throat and he whipped a single, balled fist to shoo the menacing puppet away, treating Karasu like a mere plaything. He then reached into the folds of his shirt, his arms moving slowly as the poison began to seep into his blood, coursing through his veins.

Kankuro spun his puppet around again, preparing to bore a hole straight through his enemy's head and brain with Karasu's drill. But before he could, the man twitched and fell, crashing down on Hyun-su's captured body.

"_Hyun-su!_" hollered Kankuro, the sweat on his face nearly clouding his sight. Hurrying up to the branch she was laying on, the puppeteer severed the chakra strings to his marionette, leaving it to hang on the scraggly limbs of a tree. With a single push, Kankuro hurled the heavy man off of Hyun-su, imbued with a kind of Herculean strength.

He suddenly felt a part of his heart choke and whither as he uncovered the girl.

"God…no…" Kankuro whispered as his hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

Lodged in Hyun-su's chest, so deep that only the handle was exposed, was a single kunai.


	9. That Hollow Scar

Disclaimer: Because the gods frown on me, I do not own any of the Naruto characters; Masashi Kishimoto does. However, Hyun-su is my intellectual property.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter nine

Everything inside of Kankuro hurt.

Closing his green eyes sadly, the puppet master knew exactly what Hyun-su's death meant… despite all of his efforts, even when he had tried so desperately hard, even after the rogue shinobi had been killed, he had failed in protecting her.

The pointed ears on his hat drooped pathetically, making him look like a sad, lost kitten. He certainly felt like one.

Sinking to his knees, Kankuro bitterly clutched the killing dagger and gave it a strong tug. When it refused to budge, he was strangely compelled to laugh; hadn't he done something just like this a few hours ago? Was this all just déjà vu?

How could this have happened? She was winning, she'd been fighting so well, she had won.

Another half-hearted jerk and the kunai finally released itself; for a second time Kankuro witnessed her blood being spilt. It was everywhere now, washing all over her shirt, decorating the folds of bark beneath her and painting his hands like red henna dye.

Gripping and wringing the knife like a wet towel, Kankuro began to hiccup. He'd never felt so utterly young and overwhelmed…he was used to having another person's blood on him, he was a killing machine…why was this so inconceivably different? Coughing, nearly choking, Kankuro realized that he was starting to hyperventilate and he grasped a hand to his chest, trying to physically calm his heart, soothe his uncontrollable, uneven breathes.

Kankuro looked down at Hyun-su dejectedly and saw her lying there, so quiet and still, and he silently pleaded that she was just sleeping, resting, saving her strength for the remainder of their journey. Any moment now and her eyes would re-open, those horrible, ugly, beautiful eyes that held hate and passion. And she would scream at him, her grating voice eating away at his ears, right?

Kankuro hiccupped again and then something wet splashed onto his cheeks. He hadn't even felt the tears building in his eyes, swelling like water at the brim of a cup.

_God fucking damnit don't cry…God…stop it…stop crying…that doesn't solve anything…stop….fuck…you fucking failure…_ rubbing his face, the tips of his fingers smearing across his eyes, Kankuro found that fighting his tears only caused them to multiply. A sudden violent urge captured him, and he stabbed the kunai beside him. The entire canopy seemed to shudder from the force of his anger.

"How can you fucking die like that…you stupid bitch…you beat me…you _won_…" Kankuro grimaced, the tears finally subsiding as he brought a clenched, shaking fist on top of Hyun-su's stomach. He pounded it gently, the bottom side of his hand touching bandages and soft flesh.

Out of the blue, something warm snatched Kankuro's wrist. It was so abrupt that he flinched as if something had burned him, and he scrambled backwards in a frightened crabwalk. The puppet master scooted towards the center of the massive oak, and instead of flying out of the branches, Kankuro smashed his back into the trunk with a painful thud that crushed his lungs and caused his hat to fall off his head.

"_Jesus Christ!_" the puppeteer gasped, his already tiny pupils shrinking to the size of pinpricks. A protruding gnarl hammered his spine as he tried to push past the wall of bark behind him.

Though his thundering heartbeat was pounding in his ears, Kankuro heard a small noise coming from Hyun-su. Disbelief smothered him as he watched her body twitch and convulse, one of her pale hands swaying in the air.

"H-Hyun…Hyun-su…" he stammered, recovering in time to see her blearily open her eyes. She had a muddled expression on her face, as if she'd been sleeping for months on end. A pale, dry tongue parted her lips, and she tasted the spray of red on her chin.

"You…" her first words were cracked. Blinking, trying to cast off the ache of slumber, Hyun-su groggily peered at Kankuro as her raised hand flopped down. "You…suck as an escort…"

Beside himself, the puppet master would have suffered any of the girl's insults at this point. He replied guiltily, "Yeah…I do…"

An agonizing laugh erupted from Hyun-su's throat, and she grimaced. Nodding her head forwards, she inspected the hole in her chest. Kankuro was already fumbling to find his last roll of gauze. When Hyun-su started to poke her gaping injury, he playfully slapped her hand away.

"Don't do that…you need medical attention," Kankuro chided the young kunoichi as he dispensed a long strip of white cloth, biting it off with his sharp canines. But when he began to pull off Hyun-su's blood-soaked shirt, she squirmed like a trapped mouse.

"Stop it…I don't want to show…" the girl cried stubbornly, using up the last of her energy. In a manner that Kankuro could only describe as _cute_, Hyun-su scrunched her face into a tiny frown, flaring her normally small nostrils.

"You're being difficult," Kankuro grumbled, although he couldn't say he was surprised by her rebelliousness. Only when she had stopped struggling did he undress her, taking great care not to agitate her wound.

He lifted her sodden top and mesh shirt above and over her rounded breasts and then easily removed the layer of bandages he'd applied the night before. Immediately, Kankuro knew that he was in over his head; it would take a highly skilled medic nin to properly dress and treat a puncture like this. It was deep and clean, which actually worked in his favor, but he couldn't tell how much internal damage she'd sustained. Frustrated with his run of appallingly luck, Kankuro ran his fingers through his dark, greasy hair, trying to figure out his next move.

Konoha wasn't far off. However, there was no guarantee that Hyun-su would last the trip. Rolling the length of gauze around her chest, nimble fingers politely avoiding her nipples, the puppet master tied off the loose ends just as the girl dozed off again. A small stain dotted through the simple dressing, but for now the bleeding had apparently stopped.

Kankuro was amazed that Hyun-su was even alive. An average human being would have died the instant a kunai pierced their chest like that. Only a miracle could have prevented the blade from slicing her heart open like an overripe piece of fruit. To have survived not one, but two vicious battles in less then 24 hours was an admirable feat for any shinobi.

"Tough girl…" Kankuro complimented the sleeping girl as he scooped her up into his arms. Hyun-su's head slumped into his broad chest, mouth opened just slightly and her tangled, matted hair cushioning her dirty cheek. "So much for my promise."

Securing his hold, Kankuro swiftly leapt off the blood-stained bough, remembering this location so that he could return to retrieve Karasu later on.

* * *

The town was just as lazy and peaceful as it had been during his last visit.

Kankuro was accustomed to his monochrome village, painted in every possible shade of brown. To the people of Konoha, it probably looked drab or boring, but Kankuro preferred to consider his home utilitarian. Every building was the same color, as were the roads and streets; only the resident villagers understood the city's layout. In theory, an intruder would have a difficult time finding an escape route or shelter in the dizzying maze of clay and sand.

But Konoha was colorful, bursting with every imaginable shade of the rainbow. It had only taken Kankuro a few hours to fully memorize the entire town's layout, based on vague descriptions alone. At first, the cheery, gregarious citizens, especially the children, had annoyed him to no end. They were almost as gaudy as the bright and garlanded houses and shops, always smiling, acting as though they were oblivious to the deep-rooted turmoil of the shinobi world.

Even with these initial misgivings, Kankuro had soon developed a penchant for the village's talented and determined individuals, many of whom he'd worked with on past missions. They were not to be underestimated in any case, not when they'd shown him what true spirit meant.

Still, Kankuro wished someone else could take his place as he bounded towards the two-story tall gate that sat at Konoha's entrance. Most everybody in the town knew his face, and there was a chance that he might run into some of his least favorite people once inside. That possibility caused his guts to lurch uncomfortably.

He whipped past the familiar guard station just past the village gate, mumbling a few urgent words to the two shinobi seated inside. It was clear by the surprised looks on their faces that they wanted to question his being here, where he was from, and about the unconscious kunoichi he was carrying. Kankuro ignored their raised voices and didn't even let them examine his passport, even if it was in his supply pack; he could deal with that later.

Hyun-su was still asleep in Kankuro's arms, was even snoring a little bit, as he made a direct bee-line for the Hokage's palace. It was visible from every corner of the town, much like Gaara's estate, especially since it sat below the granite faces of Konoha's leaders. As long as he continued towards that powerful, impressive monument, Kankuro was certain he would eventually reach Tsunade, the only female Hokage in the village's history.

Rushing through the crowded streets, Kankuro cursed the slow-moving pedestrians that were blocking his way, bashing into Hyun-su's legs as they dashed by. He was wasting his time on the ground, trying to weave and bob through the drones of villagers as they went about their daily affairs. Obviously, seeing a badly wounded and bleeding girl in the arms of a black-clad puppet master wasn't enough to part a crowd.

Making sure that Hyun-su wouldn't bounce around too much, Kankuro made for the rooftops, his footsteps hammering on the wooden and tin shingles. Several villagers opened their windows to scream at him, but a single nasty glare from Sand villager was enough to silence him.

As he sprung over a series of awnings, Kankuro glimpsed a small congregation of shinobi down below. A tingle of adrenaline seized him as he spotted an easily identifiable person clothed in orange. Carefully planting his feet as he landed on the next building, Kankuro treaded on in a more delicate fashion, not wanting to draw Naruto's attention. He was a boisterous, rowdy boy who'd lost none of his get-up-and-go attitude, even after passing through puberty, and Kankuro knew very well that Naruto would want to shoot-the-shit if he was seen.

Given a different set of circumstances, Kankuro would have liked to commiserate with Konoha's finest, with one grand exception, of course. Many of the shinobi, the men in particular, were fantastic company when presented with enough alcohol. With his large size, Kankuro could out-drink the entire lot of them without becoming inebriated, allowing him to safely watch their drunken acts of debauchery with glee.

Perhaps next time.

He was getting closer to the mansion by the minute, and fueled with the prospect of dropping his burden on Tsunade's doorstep, Kankuro forced himself to overlook the heavy layer of sweat that was covering his body. The warm summer breeze, which smelled sweetly of blossoms, seemed to cajole his discomfort further.

A group of cautious men met Kankuro when he arrived on the highest tower of the Hokage's mansion, all of them armed with either kunai or short swords. It wasn't quite the welcoming party he'd expected; word of his hasty, unauthorized intrusion must have traveled fast to Tsunade's shrewd ears.

"You came up here to see me? How sweet, you shouldn't have!" he said shortly, mocking the soldier's stern faces with a cat-like grin of his own, the slightly smeared paint around his eyes and nose wrinkling. They all had a few years on him, but that didn't deter Kankuro as he quickly brushed past the Konoha sentries. One of them tried to hold him fast, his one hand tugging back on Hyun-su's limp arm. Kankuro spun around, and for a moment their eyes met. The young shinobi winced as if the puppet master had struck a physical blow, because the hatred in his eyes was so intense.

A low growl, one that was animalistic and feral, mixed in with Kankuro's voice when he spoke. "Touch me or her again, and I'll kill you."

Clutching Hyun-su to his chest possessively, Kankuro stomped through the mansion's rooftop entrance. A familiar face stood on the other side of the door, thin arms crossed in front of a heaving bosom.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Kankuro-kun," a pair of eyes glowered at him disapprovingly; they were incisive and clear. "Now explain your purpose here, or I'll tear your spinal chord out."

* * *

It took Kankuro all of 45 minutes to recount the events in the forest and the two-timing Rock villagers. The entire time Shizune, a woman who always accompanied the Hokage, was scribbling into a scroll furiously, ink splattering her fingers as she tried to record every word Kankuro said. Neither of the Konoha women interrupted him as he spoke; every so often Tsunade would make a displeasing tone under her breath or shake her head wearily.

When he finished, Tsunade's eyes became clouded with concern. If Kankuro had been from any other village beside the Sand, the formidable woman would have clobbered him into a messy pulp. But the girl he'd brought in had been evidence enough for her. Hyun-su was now in an intensive care unit, and although her initial prognosis had been grim, Tsunade assured the puppet master that the girl would most likely pull through. He had looked particularly pleased by that bit of good news.

"What does Kazekage-sama plan on doing now?" Tsunade asked, sitting on her warm wood desk. As always, a teetering pile of documents, reports, and charts was sitting there, waiting to be sorted through. And next to that, of course, was a white bottle of sake.

"Wait things out, watch for any sort of reaction from the Rock village," Kankuro replied simply, as he placed a cigarette between his lips. The Hokage had been gracious enough to allow him to smoke in her opulent office, so long as he did it by an open window. Tsunade was the last person he'd expected to condone his addiction, being a legendary medicine woman, but perhaps after the years she'd simply grown tired of telling stupid kids like himself to "just say no."

"That's very much like Gaara-sama. Calculating and methodical," the woman commented, twisting a thick ponytail in between her fingers. Kankuro could feel the respect the two shinobi leaders had for each other, and even though it complicated things for him on a personal level, Gaara had been smart to send Hyun-su here. "I'll house the girl in Konoha, but only if your brother sends word of any new developments. It'll be difficult to keep her identity secret, and I don't want my efforts being expended while Gaara-sama leaves me in the dark. I have enough to worry about as it is."

Taking one last deep inhalation, Kankuro doused the cigarette into the sake cup he was using as an ashtray. "Don't worry about that. After you send an initial report to the Sand village, I'm sure he'll be in constant contact. Probably annoyingly so."

Tsunade chuckled. Gaara was a man of detail, there was no doubt. "Well, if we're finished here, I must ask that you leave. I need to make arrangements for your friend. Speaking of which, is there anything you'd like me to tell her once she wakes back up?"

Kankuro faltered at her suggestion, nearly dropping the porcelain cup. Unless his ears were tricking him, he could have sworn the Hokage had just referred to the obstreperous girl as his _friend_. If she had intended it to be a joke, it wasn't funny at all.

"No. Just…no," Kankuro said forcefully, although Tsunade saw the skin beneath his kabuki paint redden with embarrassment. She had been young once, and could tell what was going on, even if Kankuro himself did not.

"Suit yourself," smiling wisely, Tsunade showed the puppet master the way out. He bowed to the Hokage and her industrious attendant, awkwardly shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Shizune, I'm going to need you to do a little research on Iwagakure…specifically on any of their underground shinobi programs," she demanded succinctly, moving to her desk. Opening a left-hand drawer, Tsunade pulled out a blank roll of parchment paper, cracking her fingers as she prepared to write a lengthy missive.

Sitting at her desk and taking a small sip of sake, the Hokage began to suspect that it was going to be a very long day.

* * *

A gurgling nose rippled through Kankuro's stomach, and he felt like a car trying to start with little to no gas. Patting his empty belly, the puppet master sighed noisily. He wanted to stop and eat something, but Gaara and Temari were both still in the forest; most of the restaurants in Konoha were the sit-down type and he needed something fast and cheap.

"Hell, I'd take a bag of chips…anything" he moaned to himself as his nose searched the streets for the smell of something edible. Chewing on the butt of a cigarette, wishing that it was a piece of meat, Kankuro trudged past eatery after eatery, until he finally saw a simple food-cart. He whisked out a handful of ryo and wordlessly purchased a few large pieces of venison jerky. Though it was dry, Kankuro gobbled it down, savoring the rich, smoky flavor.

His hunger temporarily satisfied, the puppet master trekked to the village exit. Tsunade had taken the liberty to alert the Konoha guards near the solid, heavy gate that he should not be questioned, guaranteeing him an easy departure when he got there.

At nearly two in the afternoon, the sun was at its hottest and most lethal, beating down on the young puppet master like a focused laser beam. Black sandals shuffling along the well-beaten dirt path, Kankuro scratched behind his ears, feeling over-exposed without his hat. Kankuro's life in the Sand village had helped him to become accustomed to the blistering summer heat, but having some kind of cover over his scalp and face helped him to brave the fierce warmth.

Kankuro couldn't wait to take a freezing cold bath in his cruddy apartment, after which he was determined to rest for a minimum of 15 hours. Given the amount of punishment he'd been forced to endure on this mission, it was the _least_ he deserved. Fantasizing about cold water and his stiff bed sheets that sorely needed to be replaced, Kankuro started to jog, wanting more and more to be back in the Sand village.

"I can't wait to see Neji again…didn't you hear? He's finally back!"

Her voice.

Robust, yet immensely feminine, with an air of elegance in between.

Kankuro froze. Like a peel of thunder, four months worth of fear and anger came crashing down around him. Not a muscle in his body budged to turn around.

From the direction of the sound, he knew she was a fair distance behind him, probably hadn't even seen him. He started to gnaw on the inner flesh of mouth, using the pain as motivation to move. Slowly, lethargically, Kankuro began to walk once more.

He concentrated on the river of sweat gliding between his shoulders blades, the sound of gravel and stones crunching in the treads of his shoes, the three children tossing a ball between each other. He concentrated on anything _but_ the voice he had just heard. It faded in the background as he walked steadily, and only when it had become part of the street's noisy murmur did Kankuro dare to look behind him. Instantly, Kankuro knew he shouldn't have.

She was just as he'd remembered her. Beautiful, vivacious, poised. As she chatted with another girl, Kankuro could do nothing to stop himself from staring at her almond-shaped eyes, the olive color glinting in the daylight, at her small, delectable mouth that housed an equally succulent tongue. In all of his dreams, she'd never looked more gorgeous.

Would she want to talk to him? Did she want to be around him? Kankuro knew the answer to both of those questions was a definitive "no." The last time he'd called her, Tenten hadn't even said a complete sentence before hanging up the phone. She looked so happy and content, absorbed in her conversation. Who was he to ruin that?

Committing the smile on her face to memory, Kankuro gave a pained sigh and then turned away.

She'd seen him hatless, she should have recognized him as he'd passed by. Though it was becoming evident with each passing moment, Kankuro didn't want to believe that Tenten had actually ignored him. The remorse that gripped him was powerful and sudden, a deep sadness laced with guilt. He had tried on so many occasions to reach back out to her, and yet Tenten had remained immovable – sending back his letters, never returning his calls and denying his efforts to see her. She had blocked Kankuro out.

And now she was standing so close to Kankuro that he imagined he could smell her skin if he simply focused hard enough. He walked in silence, enduring the sharp pang of loss.

Once again, his stomach growled, not from hunger, but regret and apprehension.

_She probably hates me…_Kankuro thought to himself, completely convinced. _She probably never wants to see me ever again._

Kicking a solitary stone, the puppet master trudged through the crowded city, hearing nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat ringing in his head.

* * *

"Alright, taking the first cut…"

The middle-aged man held the scalpel firmly between his thumb and forefinger, pausing briefly so that his assistant could wipe his brow. His eyes were calm and relaxed, intent on his patient lying on the surgery table.

Although she had come to him unconscious, a general anesthetic had been administered to prevent her from awakening during the procedure, something that he'd always been afraid of; too many horror films as an undergraduate student, he guessed.

With a delicate, skilled movement, the surgeon punctured and sliced through the soft skin of her chest, systematically dabbing away the blood that formed around his scalpel's blade. Pulling back on the skin, he kept the incision open with a pair of small retractors.

"The extent of the injury is surprisingly minimal…the stab wound is clean and has not developed any kind of infection thus far," he said into a small handheld recorder, the white mask over his mouth and nose muffling his voice slightly. "Looks like we just need to apply an antibiotic ointment and then stitch her up."

Clicking off his recorder, the surgeon knew that his patient's decent condition had nothing to do with luck, but rather the ingenious design of the human body. Skin has a somewhat elastic property as a self-defense; when a person is stabbed with a weapon, the skin often closes around the object and closes again if the object is removed, trapping blood inside the body.

He motioned for his assistant to bring over a metal tray, on which was an assortment of gleaming metal tools. Holding each one of them up to the light with a pair of tweezers, he settled on a hook-like needle that was triangular in shape.

This was an everyday procedure for the surgeon. He had already tended to two other shinobi with similar injuries, and although one had been severely wounded in the stomach, his team had been able to prevent too much blood from seeping into his heart and killing him. Normally, such a stabbing would have been fatal, but a particularly bright young woman had successfully closed the hole with her own chakra, saving him. In all his years as both a surgeon and teacher in the Konoha hospital, he'd never seen such a skilled physician.

_Soon it will be my time to step down_… smiling from behind his cloth mask, the doctor pulled out a length of suturing thread. It was absorbable, and as the internal injuries healed, the synthetic string would dissolve down into nothing.

With his curved needle, the white-robed man carefully laced through the cleaved inner tissue, making sure that the sutures were even throughout. Afterwards, he began to close the entry-wound, keeping the edges of the skin tightly together. If any fluids were to penetrate the wound from the outside-in, there was a high chance for infection.

"Finished," he said affirmatively, placing the used tools onto the small tray. The patient would wake-up in about three hours, probably with some stiff joints and a minor ache in her chest, but nothing else. He hadn't been told the circumstances under which she'd received such a brutal looking injury, but judging from the other small puncture wounds covering her upper torso, obviously from senbon, he had assumed she'd been in a terrible battle.

Being a surgeon, he was used to seeing the both the dead and the dying. But something he could never understand were the warlike tendencies of the shinobi. He was a peaceful man who disliked fighting. To see the same patients coming through his emergency room doors time and time again made him wonder what kind of society he lived in. The technology of combat was on the rise, and it was up to doctors like him to keep up with it, so that they could still treat their fellow man.

He'd had a son of his own, and on the day he'd perished in the field, the surgeon had almost given up on humanity altogether. But then a new generation of shinobi was born, one that fought not to conquer but to bring harmony, and his hopes were rekindled. Not all Ninjutsu techniques were deadly; the green-eyed girl who had rescued the stabbed shinobi had effectively proven that.

And who knew, perhaps his current patient had been in battle to save someone, or because she was trying to deliver a message of utmost importance that would decide a person's fate? _The times are changing…I can't always think that shinobi are vile tools_… the surgeon thought as he used a wet cloth to clean away the residual blood on her stomach.

Turning to toss the dirty towel into a waist basket, the surgeon was about to remove his surgical mask when he suddenly heard the hospital bed creak and groan. Flabbergasted, he spun around, only to see four dagger-like nails tear his face into ribbons, the gashes ripping across his forehead, eyes and the tops of his cheeks. The thick elastic straps of his mask kept it safely in place, protecting his mouth and nose.

Crouching in flawless pain, the surgeon clasped a hand to his face, and immediately he noticed that his skin was swelling uncontrollably, threatening to split from the bloating pressure. Somehow, much to his erratic astonishment, he had been poisoned.

The following minutes of his life were a blur of crashing and shouting. All around him there seemed to be chaos as shadowy, hazy figures flew in front of him, pushing him to the ground. Something cold and wet pressed against surgeon's inflamed face, and he screamed as droves of white pain flashed through his head and neck. His vision was all but lost, but he could still make out a shock of pink hair and two brilliantly green eyes hovering over him.

"Please! Don't struggle, Moriguchi-kun!" a distinctly young voice said to him. The surgeon instantly relaxed; it was the female medic-nin from before. He was saved.

A pair of hands enveloped his lacerated face, and the surgeon felt a wave of pure chakra energy flowing into the wounds, expunging the poison. The way she was working, he figured that she must have some experience with removing venoms and toxins; none of her chakra was being wasted and he could already feel the swelling going down. Slowly but surely the stinging in his flesh was being drowned out by a more soothing sensation, and the surgeon was free to pass out in more or less one piece.

Though he should have been, the surgeon was surprisingly not angry at his own patient, even though she had maliciously attacked him, probably almost killed him. The only important thing right now was that he was still alive. Considering the grim alternative, he was quite happy to live the rest of his life with only superficial scars.

((A/N: For this chapter, I decided upon a different approach. Although I have not spared any details, I've cut this chapter into multiple sections so that much more action takes place. Please tell me what you think and I thank you for reading!))


	10. Interrupted Sleep

Disclaimer: Oh noes! You mean Naruto _doesn't_ belong to me? They belong to some guy named Masashi Kishimoto? Oh well…at least Hyun-su is my intellectual property.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter ten

In the distant recesses of her mind, Mifune Hyun-su had felt the scalpel. A jackhammer of a migraine was boring a hole through her head. Somewhere nearby, people were talking.

"The extent of the injury is surprisingly minimal…"

Hyun-su drifted again. More voices. Movement. A icy chill shot through her as the surgeon's blade cut through her like a roasted chicken being prepared for supper.

Out of nowhere, the smell of disinfectant stung her nose like a shot of tequila in the morning, bringing her sharply to her wits. Slowly, cautiously, she opened her eyes to the tiniest of slits. She scanned the narrow room and settled on the obvious spot of honor: her own chest, torn open in preparation for surgery. Her blood went cold.

_Hosp-hospital…_ she tried to think clearly, but a resounding headache thwarted her efforts. _Am I…hallucinating? Dreaming?_

The pain certainly felt real enough and she was suddenly struck with a grisly revelation.

_They don't know I'm awake!_ she thought as she saw the blurry outline of a man towering over her. Letting her eyes close, Hyun-su forced herself not to flinch as the man began to poke a needle through her innards and skin. She wanted so badly to scream, to alert the doctor that he was operating on a conscious person, but what if he was an enemy?

No. She needed to keep the element of surprise on her side. Her attack had to be silent. With a single mental command, the miniscule veins beneath her nails began to excrete a foul poison.

A dull sensation caught her attention as the man finished stitching her chest. She heard metal objects being fiddled with and a distinct shuffling noise as he moved away.

_NOW!_

Bursting off of the table, yanking her arms free from the IV needles in both her wrists, Hyun-su pounced towards her target ruthlessly. Like a tiger, she burrowed her nails into the vulnerable skin of his face and plowed them downwards towards his nose. An agonizing wail exploded into the operating room, telling Hyun-su that she had hit her mark.

For a moment, the young girl thought she had found her window of escape. Her vision was on the mend, and her healer and victim was out of commission, writhing on the ground as the toxin from her fingernails pulsated through him. In a matter of minutes it would reach his heart and then it would all be over. She flashed a triumphant smile.

Her eyes riveted on the closest door, Hyun-su balance suddenly wavered.

A balled hand dealt a crushing blow to the head, knocking her to her knees. As she fell, she thought for a moment she saw a girl who couldn't be a day older than herself.

Then everything went black.

* * *

His back arched dramatically, the top of his head crushing into his pillows. Dry lips parting, he sucked in whatever air could slip past his clenched teeth, making a loud hissing noise that he hoped wouldn't be heard through the floorboards. All of the muscles in his lower body were tensing and relaxing in time with one another, a sensual rhythm coursing through every fiber and limb. There were goosebumps lining the insides of his thigh, arms, and even his naked chest, but his mind was in no state to recognize or be embarrassed by them.

To the innocent and naïve, Kankuro appeared to be trapped in a nightmare. A glistening veil covered his entire face, his forehead creased into a thick network of furrowed, wet skin. But the experienced would have seen the suggestive smirk crossing his lips every so often in between labored gasps. They would have undoubtedly also noticed a rigid object making a small tent with his sheets, and his hands, although not visible, hard at work.

He opened his mouth to groan huskily as fat tears of sweat darkened the mattress-cover beneath him. Nearly breathless, the young man's lips involuntarily flexed, wordlessly mouthing out incomplete sweet-nothings. Suddenly, the pace of his right hand heightened, a familiar burning growing in the pit of his stomach. All at once his hips bucked and he grunted in a fit of acute pleasure, abandoning reason. It was then that his voice found him again, releasing several rasping cries into the empty air of his apartment bedroom.

The adrenaline rush ebbed away as quickly as it had come, leaving Kankuro not invigorated, but drained. He dropped one of his hands to the floor beside his bed and searched with his fingers until he touched a wrinkled black shirt. Picking up it lazily, he shoved it down the front of bed sheets, cleaning himself blindly and unenthusiastically. Wiping his fingers on the wrinkled piece of cloth, Kankuro closed his eyes, disgusted in himself. Not because he had just masturbated, but because of the naked body he'd imagined up.

In the beginning, before he'd even removed his black pants, Kankuro had eagerly visualized deep brown, practically black, locks of hair and milky skin. Tenten would saunter up to him, embrace him seductively with those slender arms of hers, her touch sending shivers up his spine. Unable to resist, the puppeteer would caress one of her breasts, twirling a finger around the hardened nipple, drinking in the lusty moans she would make.

It was a fairly vanilla fantasy of his, straightforward but immensely effective in producing an erection.

However, this time was a little different.

Just as Kankuro, in his mind's eye, was leaning over to plant a scorching kiss on Tenten's nape, she had flashed him a stifling glare over her shoulder that lasted only an instant. Gone was the lustrous peridot color in her eyes that he'd expected to see, replaced with an intense garnet blaze that sent his body into overload. Kisses that were supposed to be careful and slow were instead heated and passionate, lips traveling all over each other's bodies, his tongue fearlessly diving into her mouth and elsewhere.

Though he knew it was wrong, Kankuro had refused to allow the image of Hyun-su to evaporate from his mind as he started to stroke himself fervently. She felt perfect in his arms, nipping his lower lip, grinding her pelvis into his, making each and every inch of his body hers. Never before had he envisioned and felt such unbridled hunger and need.

But now as he lay still on his bed, the heat leaving his body, the speed of his breaths returning to normal, the puppet master could not help but feel ashamed and dirty. It was pitiful enough that he was still using his memories of Tenten to fuel his lonely sexual endeavors, but to suddenly see Hyun-su…it was despicable.

Everything about her screamed "danger!" but perhaps that increased her allure, bringing to mind the age-old saying, "What we cannot have, we desire the most." Unlike the prudes of the Sand village and the almost cookie-cutter women in Konoha, Hyun-su was unique with an unembellished charisma that radiated a striking personal confidence. She was as untamable as she was unattainable, a wild animal that belonged to no one except the forest.

Kankuro swung his legs to one side, bringing himself into a seated position, his bare feet brushing against the carpeted floor. He had to suppress and purge this bizarre longing as if his life depended upon it; in only a few hours, he, along with Gaara and Temari, would be making a trip to Konoha to meet with Tsunade. Seeing Hyun-su at some point was inevitable; avoiding Tenten was no longer going to be the puppet master's primary concern.

He impulsively reached for the carton of cigarettes on the untidy bedside table; a single object rattled when he shook the box. Scrambling to find a working lighter, Kankuro had to eventually resort to using an old matchbook that was lying under his bed. The smoke crawled into his lungs, and Kankuro greedily breathed in the smoldering tobacco fumes, ignoring the rattle in his bronchi as he concentrated on the future.

Since he'd delivered Hyun-su to Konoha three weeks ago, Kankuro's world had changed drastically. Now, all of his missions dealt with finding information about Iwagakure and their more clandestine military operations. And even though Gaara was running his older brother so ragged that he actually _missed_ his Genin days of picking weeds and walking dogs, their efforts were not without results. Together with Tsunade, they had uncovered quite a few skeletons in he Rock village's closet.

Most of their facts had come from the mouth's of dying men, so its credibility was somewhat compromised. However, putting together the collected information formed a lattice that made it easy to separate the desperate lies from the truth. All of the shinobi Kankuro had…questioned had mentioned Hyun-su's name, as well as her abilities and how she'd acquired them. The most important snippet that he'd gleaned from an unfortunate man fate was that the Tsuchikage and his scientists had been unsuccessful in recreating a killer like Hyun-su. This adequately explained why the Rock village was so keen on finding Hyun-su alive, as well as why they had neglected to inform them of her status as a missing nin. Casting Hyun-su as a hostage ensured her safety, as hunter shinobi were usually deployed to exterminate - not save - renegades and traitors.

It was obvious why they'd chosen the Sand trio to find their ruby-eyed guinea pig; Kankuro's success rate alone was barely under 100. Matched with his brother and sister, they were one of the most successful shinobi teams in the continent. And using Gaara's desire to strengthen the political bonds between their countries had also been a clever trick. But the Sand shinobi were clever as well.

When he'd retraced his steps back to Karasu, Kankuro had wisely salvaged the kunai that had impaled Hyun-su's chest. After wiping away his own fingerprints, it had been given to the Rock villager's as proof of their kunoichi's death. Analysis would identify that the blood on the blade was indeed hers.

It was a perfect scheme, and it left Gaara free to conduct his investigation without a hitch. Unfortunately for the Rock village, they had not calculated into their equations the slim possibility that Hyun-su would willingly work alongside her attackers in bringing them down.

Now, weeks later, Gaara had enough sufficient data, along with Hyun-su's testimony to implicate the Rock village for unethical experimentation, as well as conspiring to assassinate one, if not all, of the shinobi leaders. To say that this was a simple crime would be a vast understatement; it was an unfathomable sin.

A large ember fell from the tip of Kankuro's cigarette, falling on his bare legs and burning him.

"_Ouch!_ Mother fucker!" he frantically brushed it away, as he was pulled from his faraway thoughts. He licked his thumb and pressed it against the painful mark on his skin.

Kankuro angrily smashed his cancer-stick into an ashtray before getting off of his bed to wash. On his way up, he hastily ripped off the sheets, shoving them into his dirty clothes hamper; he did _not_ need that white, liquid reminder glaring at him.

He left the light off as he entered the bathroom; it was already eight in the morning and as such, there was enough natural light filling the apartment. As he waited for the water in his standing shower to warm, Kankuro gazed into his mirror, standing a few feet away so that he could see most of himself in the looking glass.

The change was subtle, but not entirely unnoticeable. Pinching his sides, Kankuro was pleased to feel hard, taut muscles instead of love-handles, and was equally satisfied with how his belly, once plush and soft, was becoming a sculpted stomach. Though it had taken a lot of time and even more determination, Kankuro was glad with his progress so far. Temari, always the perceptive one, had been quick to detect his slimming figure, going so far as to joke that he would have to use Sanshouo to defend himself from the ladies. He had laughed at that one.

Tracing a finger around his developing six-pack absentmindedly, Kankuro wasn't sure if he wanted anymore attention from the other side of the gender-spectrum. Having two girls on the brain was difficult enough.

A billow of steam fogged the mirror, as if to silently signal that his shower was ready for him. Stepping inside, he let the powerful jets massage his shoulders, the water pounding away the tender ache in his back. Instead of the hurried shower he normally took, Kankuro languidly smoothed the bar of soap along the rigid surfaces of his body.

When he casually touched the scar above his left eye, her _parting gift_ to him, Kankuro realized that getting Hyun-su off his mind was going to be harder than he could ever image. The disfigurement on his face burned with nostalgia.

His craving was obvious. _I saw her boobs twice, that doesn't mean she's your girlfriend, for fuck's sake!_ Kankuro scolded himself, trying to focus on some random, chaste thought.

Grabbing a bottle of shampoo, the puppet master scrubbed his unruly brown hair, agitated by this morbid fascination in a girl who'd nearly killed him. Growling, Kankuro washed the soap and shampoo away, reaching for a towel before he'd even shut off the water.

This visit to Konoha was going to be the death of him.

Reaching for his face paint, Kankuro stopped short, remembering Gaara's precise directions.

"_We'll be going as civilians this time. There's a chance that the Rock village might be privy to our motives by now; we have to seem as inoffensive as possible." _

That meant no black hat, no paint, no weapons…at least none in plain sight.

Kankuro scowled fiercely as he put the jar of purple ink back into his bathroom cabinet. He hated being without his mask, that barrier that kept his innermost thoughts safely hidden. Drying his back and arms brusquely, the young shinobi knew that he had no choice but to respect Gaara's demands to the bitter end. Sometimes he hated the fact that his brother was also his commanding leader.

Taking Temari's comments about the "Kanku-fro" to heart, he shook the water from his hair rigorously. If his sister made another snarky jab about his appearance, Kankuro was almost certain a part of him would snap and he'd probably end up kicking her in the shins.

Once he'd finished, Kankuro peered back into the mirror, displeased with the way he resembled his late father and Kazekage. There was so much about his face that connected the two of them; his slightly bulging nose, the peculiar slant to his eyes, even the way his hair shot every which-way. All of it was the same with his father, and he was infinitely thankful that at least the color of their hair differed. Anything to separate them.

Though he'd never speak of it, Kankuro despised his father, even in death. He had been a merciless Kazekage, had corrupted his youngest son and inevitably killed his own wife. Even if his tactics had put the Sand village on the radar, his wake of destruction had also condemned those closest to him, his children.

Kankuro regretted not being able to see his father being killed, his existence being destroyed. It would have been a treat; not a single cell in his body missed him.

Biting back the urge to smash his mirror, Kankuro stepped back into his bedroom, huffing. There was nothing about this excursion to Konoha that he was looking forward to. If only he was allowed to wear his ceremonial paint, then at least his dread could be concealed.

On the other hand, Temari had spent the better part of the week preparing for their trip, which she was apparently excited about. It was easy to see why; from the clothes she'd picked out for the trip to the way she'd been preening herself, Kankuro suspected she was planning on spending more than a few nights alone with Shikamaru.

Kankuro's selection of civilian's wardrobe was meager, and he wasn't the kind of guy who enjoyed shopping for himself or anyone else for that matter. So, as expected, his older sibling had taken it upon herself to gleefully choose an outfit for him, which left him with one less thing to fuss about. He'd merely stated his color preference, and the rest had been taken care of by Temari.

Opening his disorganized closet, which was filled with more tools and puppet parts than it was clothing, Kankuro slid a plastic garment-bag off of one of the wooden hangers. Unzipping the bag, the puppet master lifted out a men's kimono jacket, much like the one he already owned. The dark purple fabric would have matched the color of his face paint perfectly, had he been granted permission to wear it. Holding it in front of him, Kankuro found himself smiling Temari's recurrent fashion sense. In the bottom pocket of the garment bag was a new pair of straw-sandals and split-toe socks.

"You really went all the way, didn't you?" Kankuro chuckled slightly at his sister's enthusiasm to play dress-up. It was clear that she did not want to be seen around him if he wasn't clothed properly. For a second, the jokester in him considered showing up in a soy-sauce stained tee-shirt and ripped jeans, _just _to see Temari's fury-filled reaction.

Wondering what pants he was supposed to wear, Kankuro realized that the pleated hakama Temari had given him before would complement the new jacket. "Two birds with one stone, eh?" he whispered as he gathered his gray trousers from the still-open closet. Tugging on a pair of gray boxer-briefs first, Kankuro put the hakama on one leg at a time.

They were not as snug around his waist this time, a good sign for Kankuro as he hurried to get dressed, slipping into his socks and sandals while at the same time whipping his jacket over his head, making sure to tuck it inside his pants.

Twenty minutes later, and Kankuro was walking down the familiar road towards the Sand village's entrance, a small draw-string bag flung over his one shoulder. The sun was now hanging solidly in the air. Though the morning's activities had left him disoriented, his mind was now oddly lucid, forced to think only pure thoughts as he drew closer to the source of his distractions. He had promised himself he would stop at a convenience store on the way out for a pack of smokes, but instead his legs carried him directly to the stone-lined tunnel that led out of the village.

Moving east past the markets, Kankuro felt a budding nervousness, and for more than just the obvious reasons. In one of Tsunade's first reports, she'd angrily detailed in hasty brush strokes Hyun-su's attack on one of her medical nins. It was very likely that Kankuro was going to have an ear-full waiting for him from the immensely powerful Hokage.

_Another thing to worry about…_ he thought with a ponderous sigh. Rounding the next corner quickly, Kankuro hoped that the red-eyed, fiery kunoichi hadn't caused any more trouble since her first offense.

He turned due north as balmy wind picked up Kankuro's bangs, sashaying them over his brow. A few strands that were not heavy with sweat danced wildly, and he pushed them back out of the way of his eyes. He paused as his fingertips made contact with the patch of smooth, pale skin on his forehead.

Wincing, Kankuro could tell that the next few days were going to take years off his life.

((A/N: I know it's a short chapter, but I really thought this was a good stopping point. The next chapter will definitely be longer. As always, please spare a moment to review with some constructive criticism!))


	11. God, Not Again

Disclaimer: As always, because fate is not my friend, I don't own Naruto; Masashi Kishimoto does. Hyun-su, however, is my intellectual property.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter eleven

The fine-toothed comb raked through her damp hair, parting it slightly off-center. Hyun-su fidgeted as a knot caught in the plastic needles, snagging at her scalp painfully.

"Sorry," the girl behind her apologized, using her fingers to pick apart the obnoxious tangle. It came apart after a few moments, and she then continued to groom the reluctant red-eyed kunoichi.

This was surprisingly bearable. After 30, Hyun-su had lost count of all the knots and mats that had _once _been in her hair. She was truly amazed that half of her head wasn't missing from all of the pulling and yanking and overzealous brushing. But it wasn't like it was _all_ her fault; she had spent months in the forest without a proper shower or bath, only the river. Did someone _really_ expect her to curl her hair before offing some hunter-nin? Perhaps there were some girls who liked to smell like roses in the wilderness. Hyun-su was proud to not be one of them.

Fighting to keep still as the young girl started to blow dry her hair, Hyun-su twisted her hands together, forcing her restless energy into some part of her body. The loud hum of the drier boomed in her ears, but she'd surprisingly become accustomed to it over the last few weeks.

Out of all the people in Konoha, the medic-nin Haruno Sakura had been the first to make friends with her. A kick in the teeth, considering that it had been the very same pink-haired female who'd knocked her straight into REM sleep with a single right hook. After regaining consciousness – again – Hyun-su had been placed under Sakura's constant supervision, probably so that she didn't try to pull any other crazy stunts. Their initial reaction to one another had been a little tentative, with Hyun-su acting very wary of Sakura (and her fists), and Sakura regarding Hyun-su as little more than a wild animal. But once the talented young physician learned that the ex-Rock-villager was actually working alongside Tsunade and Gaara, a line of trust was established. The iciness between them soon melted, and they began to treat each other as two human beings.

Under the Kazekage's exact orders, Hyun-su wasn't to take one step into the city, but Sakura would bring back magazine clips and photographs from her own collection. With these, Hyun-su had been able to piece together a rough sketch of what the village might look like. When they were together and unoccupied, Hyun-su would bombard Sakura with a myriad of questions, from "What are they selling in the market today?" to "How is your friend Ino doing?" and even "Did you see that crazy old lady on your way to the mansion today? You know, the one with the fake teeth?"

Sakura soon became Hyun-su's doorway to the world outside of the Hokage mansion, and she didn't seem to mind this added responsibility.

"You're so lucky, Hyun-su, you don't have to worry about doing anything with your hair…" Sakura sighed ruefully as she put her hair dryer back into her small . Tousling her shoulder-length, blush-pink tresses unhappily, the kunoichi added with a touch of jealousy, "It takes me forever to do _anything_ special…but yours just curls so naturally. It's so beautiful! How do you get it to do that?"

Hyun-su tried to smile.

_I am not beautiful_, she thought. Hyun-su hated her bronze-colored hair and the way in which it flipped and furled. It was a poofy, near-albino nightmare. Years spent absorbing poison had all but killed the pigment in her scalp. Not only that, but her eyes were now of a different color as well, changed from a deep brown to a bright, scary red. No amount of soap could remove the scarlet color that outlined both her eyes, which was not make-up but another effect of the experiments she'd been forced to endure. And no matter how many times she'd cut her hair down to the skin, it had always grown back curly and fair. As she stared into the large oval mirror, the resentful girl wished that one day she would wake up and look just as she did 6 years ago, when she didn't have to deal with the toxins in her body, didn't have to worry about being taken back to her horrible life in the Rock Village. She wanted to see that little girl of so long ago, but deep down, she knew it would never happen.

Even if her mother was still alive, there was no way she'd recognize her only child.

"Is something wrong? You seem…worried…" Sakura's voice intruded. "Are you not feeling well?"

Emerging from her memory, Hyun-su breathed in shortly, her mind coming to a halt. "Huh?"

"I asked you if you were happy to see Kankuro again, but you didn't say anything…are you feeling sick?" Sakura asked the wistful-looking girl. She leaned forward and put her hands on Hyun-su's shoulders, giving her a quick rub, trying to add some life to her friend's vacant expression.

"I'm…okay…" Hyun-su answered softly, trying to find her composure. For a moment, she smiled quietly. It was nice to have this, a person to talk to. All those months in the wilderness had made her accustomed to being deprived of colleagues and companions. It was surprising how quickly she'd shed her hermit-like shell. Sakura undeniably had a knack for drawing even the most reclusive of individuals out into the open.

Suddenly though, her lips became rigid again as the blood drained from her face.

"Kankuro…Kankuro is coming! I thought it would just be the Kazekage!" she gasped wildly as she finally digested Sakura's question. Hyun-su slapped her hands over her gaping, fish-like mouth.

It was all Sakura could do to not laugh at her exasperated friend. Her lips bunched into a smirk, she waited until the fit of laughter finally passed before trying to speak.

"_Yeah…_" Sakura said in a "no duh" voice, batting her eyelids sarcastically. "Did you forget or something? Earth to Hyun-su, the space cadet!"

Hyun-su jokingly pushed the younger girl away as she stood up from her chair and retreated into her bedroom. It was for servants and maids, and she had actually taken up the role rather well, repaying the Hokage's kindness by helping the workers. Not being able to venture out into Konoha was maddening, especially for someone who was so used to jumping and leaping through the forests uninhibited. By occupying herself with busywork, which ranged from scrubbing down the walls to sealing the Hokage's outgoing envelopes, Hyun-su was able to blow off her pent-up energy. And if that didn't work, there was always the mansion's private dojo.

Ignoring Sakura's twittering, Hyun-su pulled out a folding screen, expanding it to its fullest length.

"I don't see what's so funny, Sakura!" she huffed, haphazardly whipping off her normal mahogany-colored outfit. Grabbing her servant's uniform, a simple number that was composed of a drab gray shirt and a pair of cropped hakama, Hyun-su dressed at an alarmingly fast pace.

"Sorry, just never thought I'd see you look like such a _girl_ before…you know, I didn't think you had any estrogen in you; I thought the boobs were just for show!" Sakura teased, obviously enjoying this chance to jab her friend in the ribs a couple times. When Hyun-su reappeared from behind the screen, Sakura's tone became dramatically serious. "You've got to be kidding me…you are _not_ wearing that old thing!"

"And why not? It's not like I'm there to impress anyone!" squinting her eyes testily, Hyun-su could already see Sakura was itching to wrap her up in some fancy-smancy kimono. "Don't _even_ think about it."

"Oh, come on! You look so boring in that!" Sakura whined, cracking open the closet in search of something she deemed appropriate. "I can tell you're looking forward to this…you've been nervous all week."

The truth in Sakura's statement rang clearer than any silver bell. She probably didn't even know how squarely she'd hit the nail on its head. Hyun-su broke a light sweat.

Searching for a way to defend herself, Hyun-su made a "Pssh" noise, closing her eyes and waving her hands flippantly so that she looked very sure of herself. The last thing she needed to appear today was weak or fearful.

"That big-nosed prick? You've _got_ to be kidding me…" scoffing at whatever game Sakura was playing, Hyun-su turned away and started to fiddle with her hair, tucking it behind her ears and then pulling it back forwards. Though she was normally adept at lying while under-fire, the kunoichi was very innocent to matters of the heart. Her constant fidgeting only provided Sakura with even more ammunition.

"_Sure_…Am I supposed to believe that?" Sakura accused, wagging a finger in front of her friend's nose. "Now come on, let me get you something else to wear! Do you want Kankuro to mistake you for a bag of potatoes or something?"

Before her brain could stop her, Hyun-su blurted the first thing that arrived at her lips.

"No!" Hyun-su cried with considering the repercussions, and in an instant the skin of her face became beet-red, all the way up to the tips of her slightly-pointed ears.

This proved to be too much for Sakura. "OH MY GOD! I knew it!"

Grabbing her sides, Sakura collapsed onto Hyun-su's bed, rolling on her back and guffawing loudly, her own cheeks becoming flushed. She was making no attempt to hide her modesty.

"I hate you! You tricked me!" Hyun-su shrieked, angry at both herself and Sakura. Grabbing a pillow, she shot a menacing glare at the girl, threatening to clobber her to death if she didn't can it immediately. "I swear I'll kill you if you tell anyone!"

"Tell them what? That you want to tie a red string onto Kanky-kun's pinky?" asked Sakura, extending her own little-finger. Bouncing off of the springy mattress, the excited girl raced to find something a little more feminine for her friend.

"Sakura, unless you do _not_ value that finger, I suggest you put it away!" growled Hyun-su, gripping the pillow in her hands fiercely, her knuckles turning white. When Sakura's laughing didn't stop, Hyun-su started to become anxious and panicky. She dropped her chin as well as the pillow. "Please…Sakura….It's really not like that…"

Hyun-su's voice changed abruptly, sounding melancholy instead of annoyed. Sakura realized her teasing had gone too far; she'd never seen the older girl look so vulnerable. Her eyes looked as if they would well with tears, but they did not. Instead, they simply pleaded at Sakura to stop and listen.

"It's not like that…he's just…weird…" Hyun-su started slowly, as if she were thinking and speaking at the same time. Still standing at the closet, but no longer looking for another outfit, Sakura watched Hyun-su as she ambled towards the bedroom door. "He saved me in the forest after telling me he didn't care what happened to me. I can't explain it…why would he do that? Maybe I just want to know what makes him tick. I don't care about anything else…I don't like him…I'm just…curious.

"All my life, I've had to deal with people trying to get me, manipulate me, kill me. And then out of nowhere, some freak with purple face-paint rescues me and brings me to Konoha and then leaves without a single explanation."

Sakura allowed Hyun-su a few moments to collect herself, to get all of her emotions out of her brain. A ripple of guilt shook her to the core.

"Hyun-su…I'm sorry, I didn't know," Sakura said honestly, shutting the closet door. She felt ashamed now, having forgotten what is was like to be mocked and tormented for her wide forehead and other shortcomings. "I guess I was just a little surprised…I'm sorry."

Hyun-su drew a breath, tentatively wrapping her long fingers around the doorknob. "I have to go…before they arrive, I need to clean the Hokage's office."

A pause. "Please don't tell anyone what I said, Sakura."

Instead of speaking, Sakura simply nodded, wondering if she would ever see this delicate, worried facet of Hyun-su ever again. It was like looking at the other side of a mirror, at the wooden backing that no one seemed to notice but was just as necessary as the reflective front. So far, Sakura had only witnessed the exuberant, wild-child, the girl who was oftentimes in the mansion's exercise room, pummeling the wooden-training dolls into splinters or challenging any person that could throw a steady punch in the right direction.

As Hyun-su left the room, Sakura let a built-up sigh escape her lungs.

* * *

"The Hokage will see you now."

Shuffling a modest collection of papers, Shizune ushered in the trio of Sand shinobi, noting the grave looks they all sported.

There was no questioning the grave atmosphere.

As the solid door quietly latched behind them, Gaara, Temari and Kankuro made a vague semi-circle around the dining table seated in the center of the room. The air inside was regal, fairly antediluvian, with traces of pipe tobacco, sake, and the earthen aroma of wooden architecture. On the table, a magnificent jade tree glistened like a Christmas ornament. Several types of sushi were up for grabs, but even Kankuro, who hadn't tasted a scrap of food all day, didn't snatch up a single roll.

Tsunade, who had been sitting cross-legged on the carpet, rose to greet her desert-dwelling comrades. Though she was only a woman of medium height, the Hokage carried herself with a resilient, vertical dignity that seemed more a by-product of noble ancestry than any kind of conscious effort. "Thank you for waiting…please, relax and have something to eat."

Like dog being commanded to "sit," Kankuro plopped to the ground, much quicker than his two siblings. Fetching a couple rolls of spicy tuna with his chopsticks, the un-painted puppeteer shoved them into his cavernous mouth. The flavor of salty seaweed matched with delicious fish and crispy tonkatsu flakes was like a culinary explosion in his hungry stomach.

Within a few minutes, all four of the shinobi were seated neatly on the floor – Temari was the only one kneeling properly – filling their porcelain plates with a colorful assortment of sushi. Shizune stood by the door patiently, glancing out every once in a while.

"I hope your trip here was uneventful, unlike your previous expedition," Tsunade remarked dryly, her brown eyes riveted on Kankuro. He could feel her focused gaze boring into him, and he squirmed on his sitting cushion.

Gaara carefully placed his wooden chopsticks across his plate, and then answered steadily. "It was. I must thank you once again for all of your assistance. By now, you must realize just how heavy this situation has become."

"Save your appreciation; I'm sure I'll need you to return the favor sooner or later," Tsunade said as she drank a little bit of sake, washing out the tang of wasabi and salmon roe.

"Well then, seeing as how everyone is finished eating," Gaara started, sending a scathing glare at his brother, who was just about to serve himself another helping of Green River sushi. "I suggest we get right to the heart of things."

"Ah…but aren't we missing someone then?" Rapping her knuckles against the oak-cut table, Tsunade motioned at Shizune discreetly. The brown-haired assistant shrugged her shoulders in response.

"Not here yet," Tsunade huffed impatiently. Heaving a tedious sigh, the flaxen-haired Hokage rolled her head from side to side, trying to work out the kinks in her neck muscles. Her entire morning had been a non-stop rollicking of insipid paperwork and preparation for this meeting. And now things were being delayed; her trouble never seemed to end.

Outside, a late summer breeze howled against the mansion and mountains.

Tsunade spoke more quietly now. "In that case, perhaps I can use this moment to explain to you what our own researchers have discovered about our little friend."

Kankuro recoiled as the mental wall he'd built on the way to Konoha started to crumble. He choked a little as if a piece of rice were clinging to his throat, a pall of trepidation settling over him from just the mere inference to a certain red-eyed-girl of five-foot-six-inches.

Disregarding, or perhaps overlooking Kankuro's panic, Tsunade grabbed an ominous looking black scroll from off her desk. Both ends were tipped in satin-red paint; this was obviously a highly confidential document.

"While your shinobi were busy in and around the Rock village, I had my own researchers carefully observe Mifune Hyun-su. They have been meticulously processing her abilities during her exercise breaks as well as cataloguing the extent of her skills through a series of surveys," Tsunade explained, passing the scroll to the person seated closest to her, who happened to be Kankuro. From the moment it touched his fingertips, he sensed that it was an object of enormous consequence. Before he could even untie it, the Hokage started again. "In all my life, I cannot say I've met another individual, save perhaps a one Yakushi Kabuto, who was more suited to be an assassin. A murderer.

"Mifune Hyun-su, as you already know, was subjected to experiments that were both astounding and appalling. From the time she was a young girl, she was hooked up to a machine that would push toxins into her body, altering her physiological makeup so that each individual organ in her body would, with a simple signal from her brain, expel a specific poison. This poison, once manufactured, is then sent through her blood stream and from there, it can either exit through a cut, through the pores in her skin, or through any other find of orifice on her body. So far, we've determined that she can produce toxins that can paralyze, induce hallucinations or sleep, provoke severe vomiting, and of course, kill.

"What we didn't know until now is how she controlled this production of so many lethal substances. Recently, she divulged that while she was still in the adaptation process, a special kind of chakra, so new that it's still unclassified, was laced into her body. This chakra works with the organ to produce an anti-venom, and it only activates when Hyun-su starts to generate a poison. This protects the organ from killing itself, and thusly prevents Hyun-su from dying."

As Tsunade finished her explanation, Kankuro's expression seemed to tighten suddenly. He choked, a fearful bewilderment sweeping across his face. He had no idea of the complexities inside Hyun-su's body. On that fateful night around the campfire, she had made it sound as easy as flicking a light-switch. It must have taken scientists months…no, years to create such an elaborate system of chakra and poison, forcing the two to work together within a living organism. He wasn't a master of chemistry, but Kankuro knew enough about venomous compounds to know how well they _didn't_ mix with the human body.

By all accounts, Hyun-su was a walking miracle.

"If this sort of power were harnessed by _any_ shinobi nation…" Temari started, shaking her head incredulously. Kankuro couldn't tell for sure, but for an instant he thought he heard a sliver of fear in her voice.

"It could spell doom for the other nations. We've already experienced first hand her dexterity in battle," Gaara finished, his eyes firmly planted on Tsunade as they all began to comprehend just how important it was to keep Hyun-su on the "good side" of the playing field.

"Poison is deadly enough on its own, but when honed through an extremely versatile, incredibly intelligent host like Mifune Hyun-su…well, I'm sure you can work out all the logic," Tsunade added. Her tone was of absolute seriousness. She wasn't even in the mood to consult her bottle of sake at this point in time. Taking back her black scroll, which was still closed, she placed it into the middle of table for the others to read.

"Are there any weaknesses to this poison-mechanism? Is there a fail-safe of any sort?" asked Gaara, fetching the tube of parchment. Even the statuesque Kazekage was beginning to feel a tremble of uncertainty; there were too many questionable circumstances right now. Could they rely on Hyun-su to remain their advocate? What would they do if she ended up betraying them? He needed some kind of leverage against her, something that could be used as a leash to keep her in line if the need ever arose.

"In fact, there is," Tsunade stated encouragingly. "The specifics are in that report, but I can summarize it for all of you now.

"There is only one way to dismantle her organs and turn her own body against her. Whether it was by accident or intentional, a direct piercing strike to her heart will cause the chakra that protects her to "shut-down", so to speak, causing all of her internal functions to go haywire. Poison will flood her entire body and without the chakra to counteract it, she will die the moment she attempts to produce a single drop of toxin, that is, if the damage to her heart doesn't kill her outright."

Kankuro seemed momentarily paralyzed. Trying to organize all of this new information was causing his brain to hurt, and he wished that he could step outside and breathe some fresh air, to distance himself away from all of these surprising truths. He'd already known that there was more than one side to the literally intoxicating girl. She'd shown him that beneath her crude mannerisms and wickedness was a frail young woman that wanted only to be left alone. But now beneath even that was an organism so advanced, so uncanny, that he found it strangely difficult to consider the two of them as being members of the same species.

In that moment, Kankuro heard Hyun-su's soft voice whispering in his ear.

…_I figured that I wasn't human anymore, at least not entirely…_

Kankuro finally grasped the sadness behind her words. Now more than ever, he felt sick to his stomach. What if he hadn't defeated her in the forest? What if she'd eventually been taken back to the Rock village? Would they have brainwashed her, or simply recreated her abilities in a different specimen, and then killed her off like an unneeded defect? The floor beneath him suddenly didn't feel as solid as it should, felt more like the tipping deck of a boat, and Kankuro barely heard the nearby door sliding open.

All eyes but his latched onto the entering person and it took Tsunade coughing under her breath to pull the puppet-master from his trance.

"I'm glad you're_finally_ here, please, take a seat…we have much to discuss." The stern-faced Hokage moved a little to the right in order to clear some room for Hyun-su, who moved deliberately across the room, her small mouth shut tightly. As she sat down, the young kunoichi could feel five sets of eyes honing in on her. The fine hairs on her arms tingled with apprehension, wondering if one of the pairs was watching her with more intent than the others.

"Mifune Hyun-su, I am happy that you've been safe in Konoha, and I am also glad that you've cooperated with Tsunade-sama," Gaara stated purposefully, holding in his one hand the black scroll, the proof of the girl's compliance. "I hope that we can continue to work together through this sordid ordeal."

Lifting her thin chin slightly, Hyun-su stared at the tube of paper keenly, marveling at how her entire life could be contained in such a small thing. It struck her as being a little pathetic how insignificant a person appeared on paper.

"From here on out, let it be known that anything said within this room will remain here," Tsunade declared, making sure that her words were treated with the utmost seriousness. "Hyun-su, we've just finished a quick debriefing about your abilities. If you have nothing else to add, we will continue on with the planned indictment of the Rock village's Tsuchikage."

For a moment, she pondered saying something, even if it was only a simple "no". But in the company of so many important looking people, dressed in their formal robes and luxurious garments, while she herself was wearing only servant's clothing, Hyun-su felt morbidly out of place. Taking a quick peek, she tried to suppress the longing to search for Kankuro's familiar painted face, to try and pick him out from the rest. She hadn't seen him when she'd first walked into the office, but perhaps that was because most of her attention had been spent on the floorboards and her straw-sandaled feet. Now as she snuck another furtive glance while pouring herself a cup of tea, Hyun-su found that her desire couldn't be ignored with simple will-power alone. She recognized the others, especially Tsunade and Shizune, and of course that left Temari with her spiky pigtails and then the subdued Gaara.

But then who was the last one, the young boy wearing the dark purple jacket, sitting on Tsunade's other side? Taking a long taste of her drink, Hyun-su saw that the shinobi was lazily playing with the folds of his pants, uninterested in the discussion, like an impatient child waiting to be let go from school. Drawing a line from his hands to his sleeves and then up towards his neck, the red-eyed kunoichi finally realized that there was no stopping her traveling eyes from eventually trailing up the boy's chin, over his cheeks, quickly making her way to his forehead. As she studied the person's face and body, a wave of astonishment rose within her.

_Oh my god…_ was all Hyun-su could think as she all of a sudden identified the mystery man with the short, slightly messy brown hair. It was no wonder it had taken her so long to do so; without his face-paint, Kankuro looked like a "normal" teenager. But once she'd noticed the small strip of just-healed flesh above his left eye, her memory had been jolted. Abruptly, those narrow, shadowy green-eyes became a little more feral and exotic as she imagined purple color surrounding them, and his thin lips, which had been on her mind more than she'd like to admit, started to taunt her from afar.

Hyun-su felt a new wave of disorientation as Kankuro, the puppet master from the Sand village, unexpectedly looked up at her. The girl's heart practically stalled to see the once apathetic boy now staring back, his face looking just as stunned as her own. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, and then they severed the connection at once.

Timidly, much unlike herself, Hyun-su shyly peered up to her right again, and like two magnets pulling themselves together despite their best interest, she saw that Kankuro was daring to glance up as well. His lips were slightly open, lost in some innermost thought, and Hyun-su couldn't help but observe the ways in which he shifted around uneasily, trying to hide his boyish emotions.

"…and therefore I think it's most important that we use Hyun-su as a key witness during the trial," Gaara said firmly to Tsunade, leaning over the table slightly. Hearing her own name caused Hyun-su to pull herself out of Kankuro's absorbing glare, and she straightened her back, grateful that Sakura was not in the room to witness another random act of rarely-seen girlishness. "Even though we initially told the Tsuchikage and his council that we had located proof of her demise, having Hyun-su's testimony is the only way to prove their intentions to try and usurp power from the other bordering countries."

Though he was trying to pay attention whatever Gaara was babbling about, the spellbound puppeteer found that it was taking all of his concentration _just_ to ignore Hyun-su altogether.

Kankuro couldn't think straight enough to try and guess what was coming over him. All he knew was that he couldn't stop staring at the girl two feet away from him and it was driving him bonkers. It was like he was encountering girls all over again, those mystifying, baffling creatures that seemed to have an additional butt attached to their chest and radically different plumbing downstairs; for the first time in so many years, Kankuro felt like a virgin once more.

Every brain cell in his head was screaming at him to stop ogling the ash-haired kunoichi. But nights spent panting and groping, living off of his most primitive instincts, urged him, coaxed him to turn back and gape at that strange human. _This is killing me!_ Kankuro inwardly gasped, and he pulled at the collar of his kimono jacket, trying to release some of the heat that was building up beneath the heavy fabric.

"If you do that, you're setting yourself up for accusations of intentional fraud. There _has_ to be a way of using Hyun-su without exposing her outright. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, the Rock will try at anything to extricate themselves from blame!" Tsunade responded critically, well aware of Gaara's sticky predicament. Now finally coming out of la-la land, Kankuro noticed that his brother was slowly unwinding, running out of ideas.

Slamming a fist of the table, causing the cups and dishes to rattle, Gaara succumbed to his growing frustration. "What do you suggest I do then, Tsunade? I don't have any other witnesses to provide evidence against the Tsuchikage, and I don't think we'll be able to persuade another Rock shinobi to betray their leader and testify on such short notice!"

Tsunade drew a breath, about to protest. But before she could start, Shizune shushed her with an intense hiss, closing the door hastily. In a few short steps, the young attendant was crouching next to her master, whispering to her frenetically. All conversation came to a distressing stop. As Shizune spoke into the Hokage's ears, the blond-woman's eyes dilated quickly.

"No, you can't be serious…Now?" she said intensely, mind struggling to catch up with itself. Once or twice, Hyun-su caught Tsunade glancing right at her with a worried expression plastered on her face, her lips white from biting them. Whatever Shizune was telling the Hokage, it was inexplicably linked to her in some profound way.

Gaara was the first to speak when Shizune backed away, her hands trembling. "What? What is it?"

"I've just received some terrible news," pulling her long bangs away from her face, Tsunade eyed her small council warily. Pausing to catch an uneasy breath, she continued, keeping her voice down to a murmur so low that it was doubtful that even Shizune could hear. "At this very second, two lords from the Rock village are in the mansion. They'll be here in a few minutes."

It was almost too unbelievable. The words sent Hyun-su's emotions reeling. She opened her mouth to speak but was unable. Instead, her stomach seemed to crawl into her throat, blocking it.

"Are you sure?" Her forehead creased in a severe frown, Temari's voice bordered on shouting. She sat anxiously on the floor, wishing that for once in her life Tsunade was horribly mistaken.

But the Hokage nodded, her brown eyes riveted onto the table, as if a solution were somehow embedded within the fine grain. A swelling of alarm grew in everyone's stomach, and for a few seconds, no one spoke, lost in a sort of very mutual, very tangible fear.

Kankuro wanted to die right then and there. This was far too much for his already racing mind; his strained heart was already pulling double duty, trying to control his overworked hormones and emotions.

Not only was Hyun-su in the room, but so were his siblings and him, the very reasons why the girl was still alive. If those aristocrats saw them all together, the case against the Tsuchikage that they had been working so hard to build would explode like a powder keg next to an open flame.

"Tsunade-sama! They're fast approaching!" Shizune cried out, looking through a small hole in the door, her eyes bulging.

"Damnit! Why now of all times?" leaping to her feet, Tsunade grabbed Hyun-su's slender shoulders, hoisting her up as well. The stare she shot at the young girl was so concentrated there might as well have been arrows and knifes coming out of her eyeballs. "Change. Transform. Turn into someone else…NOW."

Tsunade's order seemed to echo across the room and back before they finally registered in Hyun-su's mind. Clenching her fingers together, Hyun-su centered her quivering mind, uttering the words for the transformation jutsu the very second a coherent face popped into her mind. A cloud of smoke enveloped her like a flashbomb, and from out of the billowing mass a vastly different looking girl stepped out. This young lady, dressed in an intricate, flower-printed yukata, had hair that was tied back in a thick, high-set ponytail, the platinum blond color shining and radiant. Blinking her now-blue eyes, Hyun-su maneuvered awkwardly in the ghetta sandals, unused to the clunky wooden heels that raised her height by a few uncomfortable inches. Kankuro observed as she almost tripped while standing in place; Hyun-su lacked the feminine graces of the person she had transformed into. Indeed, Yamanaka Ino would have been miffed to see someone filling in her wooden shoes so awfully.

"Good! Now stay quiet!" whispering harshly, Tsunade swiveled around just as the door swung open, a pair of middle-aged men barging in. Just like the three older nobles that had visited the sand village, these men were dressed in stuffy robes and humorously pointed hats, which were crooked on their heads from their mad dash down the hallway.

As they settled into the conference room, the Hokage's visage turned ice-cold, an eerie transformation. "Excuse me, but you were not invited to this social gathering!"

Tsunade's eyes were menacing even across the room, and the men's initial response was a babbling, lame attempt to protect themselves from utter embarrassment.

"We are so sorry to intrude! Please forgive us, please forgive this sudden intrusion!" one of the gentlemen driveled, bowing and bobbing his head like a goose. Obviously, neither of them had ever met the demanding Hokage before; they were not used to her austere idiosyncrasies that the Sand shinobi had become accustomed to.

Using the confusion as a visor, Hyun-su ducked away, scrambling away from the table as quietly as her pegged-shoes would allow, trying to seem as elegant as she could, though she was certain they would notice her. All her life, she'd only seen the refined women of society, observed their unusual manner of walking, leading with the toe first, holding their bodies as stiff as a board. It was an arduous task for Hyun-su to replicate that from memory alone. Luckily, she made it to an empty corner of the room undetected, as Tsunade's fury held the meddlesome lords in a vice-like grip. Shizune was next to her almost immediately, gripping her one hand, trying to reassure her with a gentle squeeze.

"How dare you barge in here like this! Have you no decency! Have you no _honor_?" Tsunade continued to bellow, wielding her position of authority like an invincible weapon.

"This could not wait! A few weeks past, one of our scouts reported that several of our own men were found dead in the forests, _your_ forests, and now more of our most influential shinobi are either missing or dead! We need your help in finding the reasons behind these murders!" the second nobleman said, drumming up the courage to actually beseech the Gondaime.

Tsunade was appalled. "You stormed in here to ask that? I have stacks of requests just like yours to process, what makes you think you're so special that you can just march in here and demand that I see to your needs first?"

Nearly shaking in his hakama pants, Kankuro could almost see the waves of anger rolling off of Tsunade's face and body. Catching the eyes of his brother and sister, he knew that they were wondering when and if the two gutsy lords would question their being here. So far, Tsunade's enraged antics were providing ample cover for all of them, especially Hyun-su. She probably knew them from her days spent in the Rock village, and if she wasn't careful, her anxiousness was going to blow her relatively solid disguise.

"But can you at least give us some hope that you'll assist us? The Tsuchikage himself would have come here to ask you, but he's had to deal with consoling the families of the dead shinobi!" clutching his hands into a tight ball, the man who'd spoken last practically fell to the floor.

"You should be ashamed…begging and pleading like that. At least act like formal diplomats and apologize to my guests before rattling off your requests!" Tsunade said, folding her thin arms in mock exasperation. The blond woman's eyes sharpened now, and she leaned forward, whispering as if to save everyone some embarrassment. "Surely you're able to recognize the Kazekage and his siblings when you see them!"

At first, Gaara thought perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him. Was Tsunade trying to ruin him? It was he and his own men who were killing off the Rock villagers; was she daft?

When the skittish emissaries almost fainted from humiliation, however, the cerulean-eyed Kazekage figured out Tsunade's cunning ruse. She was trying to turn them head-over-heels, keep their minds in a perpetual state of panic so that they would simply overlook Hyun-su. He had to play along with her scam.

"I must say, you two are the most _unusual_ pair of messengers I've had the pleasure of meeting…" voice dripping with sarcasm, Gaara called upon whatever panache he could muster. Speaking out of character wasn't something he was good at, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Your majesty, your honor…" the diplomat's said together, hunching down so low that their hat's scraped the ground. It was a wonder that they didn't topple right off. When they rose, both of them had faces as red as a setting sun.

The man standing on the right, who had a large wart on his nose and greasy black hair, took a brave step forward. "Please allow us to commune with you, Oh Great Kazekage! You have offered your help to our nation before, and perhaps we can work together to discover who is behind our village's tragedies!"

_Shit!_ Tsunade cursed to herself. She wanted these two idiots to stumble out of room in a tizzy, not eat with them! Before she could say anything to divert them, the man's cohort, a portly man who dwarfed his traveling companion, chimed in.

"It could very well be that the murderer of the girl you were tasked with finding, Hyun-su, is also behind these grisly incidents!" he divulged, his heavy jowls shaking when he spoke.

_Shit some more!_ Livid at this point, Tsunade realized that there was not going to be an easy way out of this after all, even after all her huffing and puffing. Pulling her shoulders back, she gave an unnatural laugh that quickly caught the attention of her unexpected guests. "I'm sorry for my abrupt outburst…" She faked a smile. "Preparations for the annual fall festivals have not been going as planned…my exhaustion must be getting to me. I can't afford to speak for too long, we were actually just finishing up here, but if you'd like a bite to eat, I can write a message to your Tsuchikage, and we can continue from there!"

"Thank you, thank you Hokage-sama. Perhaps your servant could fetch us something to drink while we catch our breath…we won't keep you for long, we promise," the fat aristocrat said, making an indiscreet gesture towards the girl in the back.

Hyun-su drew a short breathe, as if the words had injured her personally. It had never been her intent to come off as a tea-girl, but if that had to be the role she had to play…

"Kaede," Tsunade beckoned her candidly, crafting a name on the spot, "Would you please serve these two gentlemen?"

Nodding her head sternly, Hyun-su traipsed to the round table, trying desperately hard not to clunk her sandals. Holding her breath, she reached out and grabbed a kettle of hot water. As she did this, Kankuro carefully laid his hand on the table and tapped his long finger next to the small bowl of freshly ground tea and a large teaball, hoping that she would understand.

Her keen intuition caught on quickly. Mouthing a silent "thank you", she grabbed the additional items and walked to a nearby stand. Pulling the porcelain lid off of the glazed pot, the young girl realized with a sinking feeling of dread that she hadn't the slightest clue of what to do next. Fumbling to keep her newly acquired blond hair out and away from her eyes, Hyun-su scooped a heap of crushed tea leaves with her bare hands and poured it into the water. Peering into the steaming kettle, she watched as the grounds slowly settled at the bottom, puzzled as to why the color of the water wasn't changing. Heartbeat racing, knowing that the two buffoons would be wanting their drinks soon, Hyun-su proceeded to dump in two more handfuls.

To Kankuro, it was like viewing a deadly trainwreck in slow-motion. Hyun-su had completely forgotten to use the infuser, and he could only imagine how much raw tea she had chucked into her kettle. There was no doubt in his mind that nothing in that pot would resemble or taste like a proper drink, but there was no way that he could tell her that, not without sacrificing her cover.

Bringing the wooden-handled pot back over the circular table, Hyun-su quickly poured her toxic concoction into the empty cups, of which Kankuro's was one of them. Eying the slightly murky, but mostly clear water, he saw that there were several chunks of clumped together tea floating around like pieces of dirt. It took everything in him to lift up the white and blue glass to his dry lips.

Slowly, cautiously, he took the tiniest of sips. The bland, horrible taste that met Kankuro's tastebuds nearly sent him into an epileptic fit of gagging. With considerable effort, he finally swallowed, the muscles of his face dissolving into a grimace that he tried to conceal behind an ungainly smile.

Circling the room with his squinting eyes, Kankuro studied the Rock lord's expressions as they each took an equally pained mouthful of Hyun-su's tea, their eyebrows simultaneously wriggling and arching. Unable to ignore the ghastly taste, the fatter of the two spewed the drink back into his cup, sticking his tongue out in revulsion.

"You call this _tea_? Where on _earth _did you learn to prepare such a vile brew?" he sputtered, angling the cup so that Hyun-su was forced to look at the puddle of half-swallowed swill.

Hyun-su's eyes were a deep red now, tearful. "Th-the B-bird Country…" she lied, the empty kettle trembling in her thin hands. Kankuro seriously could not tell if she was truly mortified, or if this was just another act, the shame on her face was just that convincing.

In response to her fib, the skinnier diplomat gave a caustic laugh. "Figures…_those_ people never were very skilled in pressing leaves, were they, Takamizawa?"

"No, Matagu, they never were…" curling his lips pompously, the man named Takamizawa tottered off of the floor, brushing off the front of his green, brocade robes. "Well, Tsunade-sama, we thank you for your, uh,_hospitality_, but we'd better be off now."

Giving her own cup a dubious glare, wondering if her mouth would ever feel the same way ever again, Tsunade offhandedly realized that the dolts from the Rock village had neglected to even mention their names when they'd first arrived, another sign of their discourteous nature. Without a second thought, she clapped her hands together and said, "I appreciate your visit, and I'll send that letter to the Tsuchikage as soon as I can."

Eying Hyun-su with one last questioning look, the two gentlemen left the room grumbling to one another, not taking any great pains to keep their voices down.

For a full second, no one in the room said a single thing. Whether it was because they were still recovering from the tea-mishap or that they were simply trying to relocate their breath, the shinobi sitting on the ground stared across at once another. Temari looked about ready to collapse, while Gaara simply inhaled deeply through his nostrils, his black-lined eyes closed.

After nearly two minutes, Kankuro, ever the humorist, finally spoke up.

"Nice tea."

* * *

Clutching the bouquet to her chest, Yamanaka Ino repeatedly checked to make sure none of the thin, purple tissue had torn on her way over to the mansion. Fortunately, the hot, late summer sun was retreating back into its sheet of red and yellow clouds; the flowers, safe from the heat of the day, would refrain from wilting until they could be put back in some water.

As she approached the great, yawning doors of the Hokage's abode, Ino shoulders gave a twitch, almost undetectable beneath her waterfall of blond hair. It had been a while since she'd last visited, about a week or so, but still, Ino couldn't quite remove the memory, wasn't sure if she ever would.

That beast-girl, the one with the murderous eyes, had been there with Sakura, standing next to her friend while she delivered some random documents to Tsunade.

Ino recoiled slightly as she recalled that drilling stare, the lines that the girl's eyes had torn through her. Later on, after she'd left, Ino had struggled to remember if she'd even muttered a single word inside the mansion that day, or if she'd simply left, dumbstruck and frightened.

Needless to say, the young kunoichi prayed that she'd miss the foreigner. She didn't mean to seem rude, but quite frankly, the girl scared the crap out of her.

"I swear, can you believe she expected us to drink that shit? I don't care if the Tsuchikage gives me a hundred gold pieces to come here again, I'm not doing it!"

The voice came from ahead, and Ino stopped momentarily in her path. From out of the mansion stormed two contrasting men, arms swinging back and forth as they marched like oxen past the doors. Not sure if they even knew she was standing in the way, Ino glided to one side, not wanting to have these two power-walkers crush her flowers.

Her action caught the interest of the stubbier man, and he gave a blasé glance. Suddenly, as she were a person engulfed in flames, both of them halted and stared at her, their faces a mixture of curiosity and shock.

Ino said nothing, but looked to the side, uncomfortable under the thorny gaze of these strange, unfamiliar men.

The silence was deafening.

Then, as quickly as they'd stopped, the outsiders continued along their way, the tails of their embroidered jackets swishing against the backs of their legs as they moved. When the long-haired girl turned her head back up, she was surprised to see that even the fatter man was now a good distance away; she didn't think squat-legs like that could carry his girth that quickly.

She gave a silent sigh. "What was _that_ all about?"

* * *

Blood racing, nearly gasping for a cigarette, Kankuro trudged out of the conference room, his mouth a thin line of discomfort.

That meeting had been a living hell from the moment Tsunade had mentioned Hyun-su's name to the last second those idiots from the Rock Village were in the room, and Kankuro could finally sense the tight vice around his stomach beginning to loosen itself. Slipping his fingers through spiky, slightly sweaty hair, the puppeteer tore through the empty hallway, his sandaled feet slapping noisily against the long wooden floorboards.

It didn't bother him so much that he hadn't had a smoke all day; for once, that was the least of his problems. No, it was something else. Some_one_ else, actually.

Those blasted eyes of hers. That scent of hers. That _everything_ of hers.

No matter how hard he tried, Kankuro was absolutely unable to think of anything but the girl of his nightmares and fantasies. A weary undertow was pulling at him now, and there was only one thing that he could think of that would postpone his exhaustion.

…now clenching his hands, nervously wrapping his fingers around each thumb, Kankuro paled at the hunger gnawing away at his soul. It had been a while since he'd had a craving this bad, not since the last time he'd attempted to break the habit. Slamming his balled fists against his outer thighs, so hard that he could feel the bruises forming, Kankuro tried to not think of how haggard he must have looked; if the internal itch in his lungs and brain were any indication, he must have looked like the wrong end a dog.

And yet, even with every single brain cell wrapped around his addiction, Kankuro still had one spare thought left to obsess over Hyun-su.

Her hastily cast Genjutsu had done the job of hiding her true form, at least from the diplomats, there was no question about that. But when she'd knelt over him to grab the ground tea, craned her thin, neck just a little to the left so that he could see that sweet, delicious patch of skin above her shoulder, Kankuro could have sworn he'd smelled something along the lines of fresh jasmine petals spilling off of her. It had nearly driven him crazy, even if that had not really been her neck or her shoulders or her skin, but Ino's. Somehow, perhaps because he was a boy, Kankuro had pulled her disguise off of her, mentally, with his eyes, so that Hyun-su's perfect, lithe body was all that he could see. It was a miracle that he'd not suffered a massive nosebleed in front of everyone.

As ridiculous as it sounded to himself, Kankuro was certain that he could perceive the warmth surrounding her, and just by being around her, it was infecting him, making him think and feel all sorts of things he did and didn't want. It was as if because he'd held her, carried her to Konoha, and saved her, that the puppet-using shinobi could now recognize her distinct warmness, her aura, so to speak. And now that he had felt it, there was no escaping it.

Smoothing the knot of skin between his eyes on his forehead, Kankuro ignored the migraine that was pounding steadily inside his skull, his narrow, green eyes squinting from the solid pain.

Just as he was about to turn a corner, a hand gruffly snatched the scruff of his kimono, jerking him back a few feet.

He gasped. "Wha-"

The hands spun him around haphazardly; his heart lurched at the prospect of seeing a girl with ashen-hair and ruby-eyes here, alone in a hallway that afforded no places to run and hide.

His alarm melted away when instead of Hyun-su he saw the Hokage's assistant, her chin-length brown hair neatly tucked back away from her face.

"Shi-Shizune?" the young shinobi gawked blatantly as he teetered on his feet, dizzy from the round-about. Mouth half-open, Kankuro swiftly straightened his back so that he towered above the thin attendant. "What do you want?"

The question came out sounding like a demand, but Shizune ignored his strict tone, raising her one eyebrow artfully as she fiddled with something behind her back. "I'm just giving you your key…your brother and Tsunade have both decided that you'll be staying behind."

Kankuro's soul thundered with confusion and awkwardness.

"The hell? What are you talking about?" head about ready to split with angst, Kankuro took a drained step backwards. "Why me!"

"Because," Shizune took a breath, as if she'd rehearsed her next words, "Because not only are you unrecognizable without your face paint, and we don't want the Rock village to trace your actions back to Suna, you're the only one with suitable experience in body-guard duty, as well as being an escort. Your brother can't possibly stay behind because of his responsibilities as the Kazekage, but Temari will be here from time to time to check up on you…"

Kankuro stammered as he tried to speak. A great weight was crushing him now, one filled with disbelief and madness. "But…but why me?"

"I'm not repeating myself! It's been decided!" Shizune blurted out, clearly not in the mood for drilling out all of the details. The day had been just as trying on her as well. "You'll be staying in the hotel down the street from the mansion, the Twin Lotus. I've already made the reservations, all _you_ have to do is get there."

"Okay…okay…" fighting to ground himself, Kankuro placed him hands on his hips, leaning onto one foot slightly as he shook his head. It was quite obvious that there were some forces in this world that he couldn't counteract. "Wait…reservations… where is Hyun-su staying?"

He sincerely wished he hadn't even muttered the question.

Kankuro stared into Shizune's eyes, begging for her mercy, hoping that there was some shred of good behind all of this terrible news. Surely, the gods didn't hate him all _that_ much…

"Hyun-su…" Shizune started, pulling out a small, white envelope. With the harsh light of the corridor shining through it, Kankuro could plainly see two identical objects inside of it. The lump in his throat intensified like an accumulating snowball of tyranny. "Hyun-su will be staying along with you, for her protection…"

Inside, deep down in his guts, Kankuro suppressed the violent urge to vomit.

((A/N: Well, you've just gotten through quite possibly the longest chapter in the story thus far…As such, I hope that you enjoyed it, and will take the time to review! The next chapter will come along a lot faster!))


	12. Web

Disclaimer: Same old, same old. Naruto characters don't belong to me, they are Masashi Kishimoto's bitches. I, however, own Mifune Hyun-su, as she is my brain child.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter twelve

_She's in the shower naked…_Kankuro almost felt like crying, sitting on the absolutely plush bed, the down cover soft underneath him. Quickly staring at the wall directly in front of him, then to the carpet right outside of the bathroom, and back again to the wall, the young man cringed as he imagined tiny, warm droplets of water gliding around the precious lines of Hyun-su's body.

What should have been tantalizing to Kankuro, who hadn't been anywhere near a bathing woman since forever, was instead proving to be a total and legitimate nightmare. His affinity for bachelorhood and the simple freedoms it allowed had been shaken, replaced by an unexpected confusion and emptiness that seemed to have grown over the past few months, leading up to this horrible moment in time.

Here he was, single, physically available, with a voluptuous, tumultuous kunoichi just a mere 15 feet from where he sat. And yet, despite the longing that ran straight down into his bones – and elsewhere – begging for him to creak open that door and take a fleeting glance, Kankuro held his ground, mired by whatever civility he could drum up. To be sure, it was fully in Kankuro's abilities to strike up a halfway-decent conversation with the girl. He _was_ her bodyguard, babysitter…whatever Gaara had called it. If he was expected to watch over the blasted woman without muttering a single peep, even if to just make sure she was okay...well, he'd be throwing in the towel rather quickly. He didn't like to play the silent game with anyone, since out of the three of them, Kankuro was by far the most gregarious amongst his siblings.

_Click…_

Kankuro felt the world evaporate with a sudden rush as the bathroom door swing open suddenly, letting out a gigantic puff of steaming hot air. No rumble of outdoor traffic or bustling. No drone of the late summer wind. Just a deafening silence, which seemed to reverberate back and forth as if the hotel room were whispering to itself.

A towel wrapped very firmly around her body, another one draped over her wet hair, Hyun-su's water flushed skin seemed to glow with a sort of freshness, and Kankuro once again barely caught himself before he could stare at her sloping shoulders or her smooth calves that just dared him to touch them. Fighting the itch in the back of his mind, the puppeteer removed himself from the bed, trying to appear modest as he turned his back towards the young girl with the haunting red eyes.

_God damnit, why couldn't we have gotten separate rooms at least?! _he made a note to strangle his older brother for setting him up like this, forced to endure this agonizing torment for so long. Rolling his eyes, Kankuro called to the woman behind him in a growling tone of voice. "Christ, couldn't you have changed in the bathroom?"

A short, irritated noise, and then a pause.

"_Sorry_, I forgot my things…just kill me, why don't you?" Hyun-su retorted angrily, sending a fiery stare straight into Kankuro's kimono-covered backside, trying very hard to overlook the subtle way in which the fabric draped across his shoulder blades. It really was a fantastic view, but after the way he'd talked down to her, Hyun-su was determined to not give into her female-driven thoughts so easily.

"Don't give me any good ideas," waving a hand over his head in a terse, annoyed gesture, the young man once again cursed his abominable situation as he reminded himself of another grim detail: this was a _no-smoking_ hotel. He couldn't even light one up on the balcony just outside. Rubbing the knuckles of his left hand, Kankuro could feel his blood-flow quicken as his appetite for nicotine jacked up a notch.

"I need to step outside soon…can you hurry it up a little?"

"What, so you can pollute your lungs some more?" Hyun-su said snarkily; Kankuro could feel the cynical bite to her words, gnawing into his skin. With a loud, exaggerated scoff, the ashen-haired kunoichi grabbed a small satchel and returned to the still-foggy bathroom. "Just give me five-minutes. _Then_ you can get your precious smoke-break."

As the door slammed shut once more, Hyun-su's small, muffled voice registered just into the bedroom. "Can you get that small case from underneath the bed…they should have put it there."

It was more of an order than a request, but Kankuro was in no mood to stall. He needed to get out of here as soon possible.

Kneeling onto the floor, the puppet-master reached below the box-spring carefully, feeling with his long fingers for anything that might feel like a box. Her description had been vague at best, but he soon touched a hard, semi-slick surface, and he clenched it hard. Pulling the object towards him, Kankuro fell onto his backside when he yanked much too hard, surprised by the case's light weight. Although the box was far larger than what he had imagined, whatever was inside was either very small or very flimsy. Crossing his legs, Kankuro squinted his cat-like, mischievous green eyes, looking back and over his shoulders to see if Hyun-su had opened the bathroom door again.

The coast was clear, so he turned his attention once more to the mysterious container.

The polished wooden box was about nearly three feet in length, and had ornate hinges. The wood was a lustrous deep purple with a strong grain. Overall, it wasn't something he'd connect with such a ruffian like Hyun-su, but then again, she was an individual of surprises.

It opened smoothly, without a creak. Tilting the lid back, Kankuro eagerly awaited whatever secret Hyun-su was keeping in her box. The devil in him wondered if it just might be something silky or lacy. Holding a breath in his lungs, Kankuro leaned forwards to take a peak.

_What the…_nose scrunching with the frown on his lips, Kankuro's mind was one part amused, the other confused.

Wrapped in a velvet-like cloth was a thing that the brown-haired shinobi had never seen on all his travels. Forgetting his original underwear fantasies, Kankuro stared at the long, wooden gadget, green-eyes affixed steadily to it. At first, he wanted to say it was a weapon to be placed on the shoulder; perhaps kunai or senbon were stored inside, ready to be lodged via a tag-bomb. Gently pulling off the covering, Kankuro shifted his positioning so that the box was nestled in between his legs. He suddenly felt like a kid opening a birthday present, one that wasn't for him.

Touching the rich wood of the object, the curious puppeteer moved them onto the four strings that ran from top to bottom. They weren't made from steel or a cutting wire, things that would normally be found on any kind of weapon, leading Kankuro to believe that this was instead a harmless instrument, one he was unfamiliar with. He'd seen something sort of like it at a festival long ago, although he remembered it had been much larger and longer, seated on a stand so that a performer could sit behind it and strike it with two hammer-like mallets. The instrument before Kankuro now was smaller, with fewer strings. Bravely placing one of his nails behind one of thin filaments, Kankuro gave it an experimental pluck. A strong twang echoed out from the instrument, painfully loud within the stark quiet of the room, and he immediately regretted horsing around.

From behind Kankuro, someone pressed the sharp blade of a kunai into his back, high and on the left, directly behind his heart. The shinobi felt his muscles seize with terror. Kankuro's green eyes showed panic now, and Hyun-su could not help but smile.

"Now _that_ was naughty of you," she mocked in an insincerely coy tone of voice, sinuous and full of danger. Keeping the point of her blade against Kankuro's body, not so hard that it could pierce but just enough so that he knew it was there, Hyun-su reached around and dragged a fingertip along his neck, sliding it down towards his clavicle.

The fireworks exploding within Kankuro's body, which was thrilled to have her fingers on it, threatened to override his common sense. He wanted so badly to have her travel lower, tease him, torture him. Her breath was unusually cool against his skin, sending pins and needles to all of his extremities. _All_ of them.

"Why did you feel the need to go rummaging through my things like that? I merely asked you to get the case out," Hyun-su spoke softly, directly into Kankuro's ear, much as she had before in the forest during their battle. And just like before, he was defenseless against the sensations she was stirring in him. Trailing her fingers to his nape, she drew her weapon away. In a fluid motion she seized her container away from Kankuro, who was still too dizzy to react. Shutting the box quickly, Hyun-su stood up and moved towards the hotel room's door. "Well, do you or don't you want to leave? You were being so impatient before."

Her call snapped Kankuro free from his lightheadedness. Staggering up to his feet, he rubbed the spot on his back where Hyun-su had been jabbing him. "I didn't even hear you."

Holding the box securely with both hands, Hyun-su shot Kankuro a smile that would have disarmed any man. "They _never _do."

Her pink lips were like candy, and, unable to contain himself, Kankuro could only begin to imagine how sweet the tongue in her mouth might taste. Checking to make sure he had his cigarettes, as well as a few kunai of his own hidden within his hakamashita, Kankuro joined her at the exit.

"Any specific plans, or are we just going to wing it?" he said, trying to avoid looking directly at Hyun-su's face. She was wearing the same outfit she'd had on before transforming into a fake Ino, which helped to remove all evidence of her sizeable bosom, not that he couldn't dream.

"This will be the first time I've been allowed to tour Konoha," Hyun-su declared with a subtle feeling of excitement. In reality, she couldn't wait to see the village with her own eyes, be able to see the things she'd previously only heard of from Sakura. "Hope you don't mind taking things slowly."

Opening the door, the gray-haired kunoichi waited a moment for Kankuro to go through. He simply glared at her, feeling very awkward. Kankuro was callous, but he knew the ways things were supposed to be. "Shouldn't I be holding the door for _you_?"

"Have it your way," scoffing at the young man, Hyun-su left the room, leaving the door to slam directly in Kankuro's stunned face.

His skin instantly reddened with irritation, and he wished he'd never showed such chivalry to such a feral girl; it was obviously wasted time and effort. Apparently, their last encounter before her stabbing had left her vehemently bitter.

Outside the hotel, Hyun-su was already ahead of Kankuro by more than twenty feet, eyes searching every nook and cranny of the impressive and daunting village. Her brain could barely take it all in, the sights, the people, all of it! Coming from a life sequestered in the beautiful, yet monotonous forests, the young woman felt alarmingly safe within the confines of Konoha. A spy certainly couldn't easily pick her out amongst so many villagers, and there were numerous buildings and vending stalls to hide in if the need ever arose.

She moved quickly, desiring to see as much as she could before it was time for the sun to slither away. Twisting her head this way and that, Hyun-su suddenly felt something wrench her back a few footsteps. Her arm was tugged roughly, and she acted on impulse. Pivoting quickly, the vagabond-girl deftly lifted a hand in retaliation, ready to punch the daylights out of whoever dared to trap her. When she launched her tight fist, another hand quickly wrapped itself around her hand, stopping it with little trouble.

The aggravated look on Kankuro's face was stifling.

"I didn't even hear you!" she squealed, unknowingly mirroring his earlier reaction. She tried to wring her hand free, but this only prompted Kankuro to tighten his grip. His tennis-racket palm completely encased Hyun-su's tiny hand, making it difficult for her to pull it loose.

Lowering his eyes so that Hyun-su could clearly see them, the green-color flickering between annoyance and smugness, Kankuro's lips curled into a smile that revealed his white teeth. "They never do…" he answered arrogantly, releasing her gruffly. He'd enjoyed the moment for too long, enjoyed having Hyun-su under his control.

"Pig," spitting out the single word, Hyun-su turned her back on Kankuro again.

"Stop being so _fucking_ difficult!" Kankuro yelled, forcefully pulling at her shoulder so that she'd actually show her face to him. He was beginning to feel stupid for ever showing a single shred of decency to the wild kunoichi. If she wanted to play this game, he could get just as rough. "I've been ordered to protect you, keep you from the _bad guys_…don't think I'm going to let your shitty attitude keep me from meeting that goal!"

"Well, you did a fuck _ugly_ job before in the forest! How can I trust you this time?!" Hyun-su answered, ramming a finger into her chest, at the precise point where she'd been stabbed. There was pain evident in her voice, and it suddenly dawned on Kankuro that no one had told Hyun-su the full story behind her rescue. How could she? He'd been the only one there to witness the entire thing. "You were ordered once to keep me safe, and I clearly remember you saying you couldn't care less about my life!"

Her words dug deep into his skin.

"Look, you don't know what I really meant…shit, _I_ don't know why I really meant," Kankuro said quietly, trying to calm down Hyun-su's fiery temper; the last thing he wanted on his hands was unneeded attention on the both of them. Tentatively, he captured both of Hyun-su's shaking, angry hands, this time without squishing them. "Hyun-su…You have to believe me that this time, I'm not going to let anything harm you."

For a moment, it seemed like the girl was going to pipe down and cool her jets. Slowly, without jerking them, Hyun-su slid her hands out of Kankuro's. She stared straight through him, and for an instant Kankuro noticed in her red eyes a flash of immeasurable sadness.

Seconds later, however, those same eyes narrowed, full of mistrust. Kankuro felt the slap being dealt before he'd even seen her raise a hand.

"Bitch!" clapping a hand over his sore cheek, Kankuro couldn't believe she'd actually smacked him in broad daylight. Obviously, being outside in the village for less than five minutes had caused her to forget all she knew about stealth. "Why did you do that?!"

"Because, I don't trust you. I don't trust anyone," she said with in a low, liquid growl, daring Kankuro to say otherwise. "_No one_ has ever looked out for me. Stop acting like a knight in shining armor, you puppet."

There had been no mistake in Hyun-su's insult; she hadn't meant to call him "puppeteer" or "puppet master". Still with a hand over his face, Kankuro watched as Hyun-su took a step backwards. Her heel accidentally caught on a rock in the street; her arms flew up, trying to regain her balance.

In the length of a breath, Kankuro dashed up behind her, catching her at the last possible moment. Hyun-su flinched, repulsed by the feeling of the man's arms wrapped around her, thinking only of how they were fencing her in. She quickly forgot the dreams she'd had in the last month, the visions she'd had of him, memories of him calling out to her, replaced with an intense feeling of hatred. But despite the scathing glare on her face, the way her nostrils were flaring, Kankuro refused to release her.

"We're not moving a single inch until you shut up and calm down. Do you _want_ to go back to the Rock village? Do you _want_ to be the sole reason for this mission's failure?" he asked her vigorously in one last attempt to quiet her and return reason to the situation. "I know you don't want that…you made that infinitely clear by the campfire. Don't think for a second that I wasn't listening to you then."

His confession struck Hyun-su as sounding utterly ridiculous, and yet she could not completely deny his authentic concern for her. Huffing through her nose, Hyun-su finally gave up the fight and relaxed. Beneath his hakamashita, she could feel the muscles in Kankuro's arms and chest bunches against her. This, coupled with the fact that several villagers were now staring at them rather peculiarly made Hyun-su's cheeks and nose break out in a rosy flush. Some of them were making snickering noises, others simply pointed, whispering to the person next to them.

"Would you look at that!"

"Did you see him catch her? How dashing!"

"Get a room you two!"

The murmur in the street grew louder. Flustered, Hyun-su motioned for Kankuro to let go, and they both gathered themselves up off the ground. She brushed the dust from her servant's garb and hair, trying to seem cool and unruffled. Kankuro had far less trouble appearing poised; he nonchalantly reached down to collect Hyun-su's instrument, which had slipped out of her hands when she'd fallen. Without a word, he handed it back to its owner, who immediately began to check if anything had been damaged. Turning the box over, Hyun-su searched for nicks or breaks in the case. Finding none, the kunoichi slid it back under her one arm, now completely self-possessed.

"Thanks," she said tersely, all feeling drained from her eyes and face.

"No prob," Kankuro replied, nodding his head to one side. Neither of them smiled, wearing gormless faces that soon caused them to lose the attention of the street-dwellers. When it looked as though normalcy had returned, Kankuro still maintained a low, emotionless voice. "Let's try this again, shall we? You wanted to see the city, but I think now that has to wait until later."

Hyun-su silently agreed, squeezing the box with her arm protectively. A tremor of mortification rattled her heart, realizing that she might have been wrong about Kankuro's true interests. She'd spent weeks convinced that he hated or didn't care about her, that he'd only brought her to Konoha because his Kazekage brother had told him to. That might still be the case now, but at least she knew without a doubt that she'd been wrong about his disinterest in her. A second wave of guilt ensnared her.

"Kankuro, I-" shaking her head confusedly, Hyun-su was unable to finish her sentence, cut off by Kankuro's hand being pressed against her mouth.

"Not now…this is not the time of place to be discussing _that_. Who knows who could be around?" he instructed, only lifting his hand once he was sure Hyun-su grasped what he was saying. "For now, lets just mosey around…I know this village pretty well."

"Okay…" she replied in a quiet, small voice devoid of her previous zeal. "Are you really going to protect me?"

"Hyun-su, I gave my word to both my brother and the Hokage that I would. I might not look like it, but I _am_ a shinobi," Kankuro said as he started to walk away.

Hyun-su contemplated this, noting his simple, single-minded devotion to his leaders, wondering if there was anything else in his life that he would follow so loyally. Sneaking a sinful thought, she quickly matched Kankuro's pace, coming up beside him as they made their way into the thick of the Konoha streets. For a while they roamed together in silence. From time to time Kankuro would sometimes making a short comment about a place he knew a little about, but other than that he remained wordless.

Before either of them could cover even a small fraction of the village, evening traded places with afternoon, a red glow spreading across the limitless sky. It tinted the clouds, buildings and mountains, and Hyun-su speculated if the Fire Country had gotten its name from these spectacular sunsets. To her one side, Kankuro strolled, unmoved by the impressive show of light and color coming from the descending sun. As they turned a corner, changing the angle that the light was hitting them, Hyun-su was powerless against the sight of his skin, set ablaze by the scarlet illumination. Biting her lower lip anxiously, Hyun-su remembered her first impressions of the puppet master, how she'd mocked him and hurt him, disfiguring his eyebrow.

Cautiously, the words half-formed in her brain, Hyun-su opened her lips, but once again she was interrupted, this time from a boisterous voice calling out from behind them.

"Kankuro! Kankuro!!"

Her heart thudded against her chest. Kankuro swiftly placed himself in front of Hyun-su, effectively blocking her from view.

_Crap, why did it have to be him?_ Kankuro groaned, rolling his green eyes at the Konoha shinobi dressed in orange. Unlike before, there was no way to avoid Naruto this time around.

He bounded in great, enthusiastic strides, mouth open in that same shit-eating grin he always seemed to wear. Blue eyes dazzling even in the lessening evening light, Naruto was soon upon both Kankuro and Hyun-su.

"Kankuro!" Naruto yelled again, even though he was only three feet away from the sand shinobi. Kankuro didn't understand why the boy still had to scream; didn't he know how to whisper? "I heard from Granny-Tsunade that you were in town! Why didn't you tell anyone you were here!"

"Because no one _else_ is supposed to know I'm here, you dumb ass…I'm on a mission" Kankuro answered, barely moving his lips. He didn't move out of the way, hoping that the hyperactive Naruto would get the clue and leave.

Naruto, however, still hadn't learned the art of tactfulness. Smiling bashfully, he slapped Kankuro on his shoulder, speaking in a remotely softer voice. "Ah, sorry! Granny mentioned too; guess I forgot. Anyway, you've got to come with me! I'm sure the rest of the guys will want to see you too!"

"What part of _mission_ didn't you get? I have to protect Hyun-su from-" Kankuro started, but then stopped once he realized his mistake. Snapping his lips closed, the puppeteer fiddled with his hands behind his back, hoping that Naruto, wouldn't notice his slip-up. Unfortunately, the orange ball of energy's ears were just as sharp as his tongue.

"_Hyun-su_? You got someone with you? Someone _Korean_?" he pestered, darting around Kankuro's side to find the young girl standing rather dumbfounded. Naruto looked at her with a stunned look on his face before saying, "Um, this is a _girl_, Kankuro."

Blinking, Kankuro turned around, giving the kunoichi that spoke volumes of his confusion.

"Kankuro, Hyun-su is a boy's name, I think," revealing that he wasn't a _complete_ dunderhead, Naruto pointed at the girl clothed in servant's wear. "Are you sure you're watching the right person?"

"_Excuse_ me, but that is my name," Hyun-su spoke up at once, coming to her own defense. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Uzumaki Naruto!" not bothered in the slightest by Hyun-su's harsh reply, Naruto gave the kunoichi a quick wink before returning his attention to Kankuro. "Sorry for messing up your walk, Kankuro. How long will you be in the village?"

"I don't know, however long I need to be," Kankuro quickly answered, getting out a cigarette. He'd waiting long enough to smoke, and his body was now giving him serious pangs of hunger. When he lit it, Naruto's normally cheery face dissolved into a scowl, but even he knew when not to speak and argue. The leaf shinobi did not want to have to piss off Kankuro; he'd experienced his violent disposition on multiple occasions, even when they were on the _same_ team.

"Oh, okay," he said plainly, trying to hide the disapproval in his voice. Furrowing his brow when Kankuro took in a long drag, Naruto forced a smile. "Well, I know that some of the others would like to see you before you have to leave…especially Ten-Ten."

"Yeah, okay, that's nice, but no thanks," Kankuro blurted out, nearly gagging at the mentioning of Ten-Ten's name. Didn't he know that they'd broken up months ago? What was Ten-Ten telling everyone here?

Exhaling deeply, it felt insanely great to have some nicotine in his blood, and although he'd seen the disappointed look on Naruto's face, Kankuro didn't seem to care. Grabbing Hyun-su's hand, inadvertently sending a chill down her spine, the puppet-master suddenly paused when he saw the same gaze in her eyes as well. He was thrust back in time to that campfire in the forest, when she'd first seen him smoke. Pushing away his shame, he tugged her gently. "It's time to go. Naruto, it was good seeing you."

Speechless at Kankuro's ultra-seriousness, Naruto could only manage a small wave as the two foreigners stalked off rapidly.

-------------------------

"Why were you so rude to him? Was he a friend of yours?"

Hyun-su dug one of her feet into the ground, stopping Kankuro as he tried to pull her back to the hotel room. He was still puffing madly on his fourth cigarette, and almost yanked Hyun-su off of her feet when he refused to stop.

"Kankuro! Please, stop!" she said, grabbing his one hand with both of hers. "I'm talking to you, you lummox!"

Kankuro spun around, his voice firm and his feral eyes scanning Hyun-su's face. "Yes, he's a colleague of mine, but right now, I don't want to be around any of them. Do you have a problem with that?"

Startled, it took Hyun-su a few seconds to find her voice again. "Kinda…what kind of person are you to treat your friends like that?"

Kankuro replied the very instant Hyun-su finished speaking. "The kind of person who doesn't like to have their missions screwed around with. The only reason I was left behind to take care of you is because so few villagers here can recognize me without my face paint. But if I hang around with people who are shouting out my name all the time,_ I _lose my "average Joe" cover and _you_ lose your safety."

Pressing her lips hard against one another, Hyun-su didn't have anything else to say; he'd apparently been thinking farther ahead than she had. It had just been nice to be around others who knew Kankuro, if only because that reaffirmed his humanity. He couldn't be _just_ an uncaring, companionless shinobi with an obsession with marionettes; Hyun-su wanted to find out more. Letting her vision fall onto the ground, to their feet, the red-eyed girl sighed.

"Who is…Ten-Ten? Is she one of your friends?" she asked, certain that she was braving icy waters. Her assumption was proven by the mixed expression that crossed Kankuro's face, an amalgamation of bitterness and something else.

"She's not a friend, she will never be my friend, and don't listen to Naruto. She _doesn't_ want to see me at all," he said frankly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the very notion as being ludicrous. However, Kankuro's voice caught, and Hyun-su heard a sudden melancholy there, a painful past, simmering just below the surface. He and this Ten-Ten figure apparently had had some kind of special relationship.

Hyun-su decided to drop it, not wanted to frustrate the young man, who looked about ready to crack at the edges anyway. Before he could grab another cigarette, the other one vanishing in his fingers, Hyun-su abruptly touched his face. Parting his bangs, she carefully touched the scar above his left eye; it had healed, but in the process his eyebrow was permanently jarred in the middle.

"Hey, are you hungry? Why don't you treat me somewhere nice tonight?" Hyun-su suggested rather boldly. Her impetuousness wasn't a shock to Kankuro; he'd seen enough to conclude that she was the most reckless, unpredictable, and mysterious female he'd ever met.

Her fingertips of her left hand were surprisingly not soft, but rather calloused and hard, and felt unusual against forehead. He stood fast and still, not daring to budge because he secretly didn't want her to stop touching him. In response, Hyun-su continued to let her fingers migrate along into his hair, which was just as spiky as always. Her long nails scratched his scalp, making Kankuro want to purr with contentment; he hoped she knew how good this felt so that_ he_ wouldn't have to tell her.

An involuntary moan narrowly escaped his throat, causing Hyun-su to immediately retract her hand, much to Kankuro's regret. She gave him a wary glance, as if she'd never elicited such a reaction from a man before.

"I'm sorry," she said humbly, eyes projecting a deep shame and confusion. Kankuro couldn't believe that he was witness to yet another facet of Hyun-su's multi-dimensional personality. First the wild-child in the forest battle, then the persuasive actress during Tsunade's meeting, and now the unsure, befuddled girl who appeared to be wrestling with her softer emotional side. He could only assume that there was much more to her, waiting to be revealed as time allowed.

"It's okay, it really is…you…you didn't have to stop," Kankuro risked, knowing fully that _he_ was now the one traveling in dangerous territory. Their encounter in the hotel room had shown that her sadistic side was still just as potent as ever; who knew when she'd switch emotions again. His senses told him to stop asking for another scalp massage. "As long as you're not going to slice my head open and poison me, that is."

His joke caused Hyun-su's sullen lips to pull up into a frail smile. "Heh, not unless you _really_ piss me off."

"Well, I'll make note of that," Kankuro jeered lightly, tossing his last cigarette butt into a streetside trashcan. "Did you still want to eat out? There are a few sushi restaurants around here and this one place that supposedly has some nice Korean-BBQ."

"Just because I'm part-Korean you assume I'll like that kind of food?" she challenged, wagging a finger. Kankuro was afraid that he'd hit a nerve, but the smile never left her face. "You assume right, sand-bat."

((A/N: God it's taken me long enough to write a new chapter. To all my readers, PLEASE excuse the long delays. Please R&R if you have the moment!!))


	13. Checkmate

Disclaimer: As always, no matter how many stars I wish on, I will never own the Naruto-verse. I, however, own Mifune Hyun-su, as she is my brain child.

Also, this story takes place in a slight AU. Since I don't know the ending to Naruto, I can only make educated guesses on how the Naruto world will be in the future. Any inaccuracies will be fixed as more of the manga is published and translated.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter thirteen

"So, she's still there."

"Yes, Matagu and Takamizawa both reported seeing the _same_ girl in two places."

"Any chance that they might have been twins? You know how those two asses overreact all the time. I can't do this on a whim."

"Sir, we've gone through the records. Yamanaka Ino, the girl that best matches the description Takamizawa gave us, does not have _any_ siblings."

The room became deathly silent; not even the air seemed to move, in fear that it might anger someone.

The man who'd spoken first, obviously the leader, raucously cleared his throat. "Then it is as we've feared. Sunagakure and Konohagakure are working against us."

A low murmur traveled across the long, rectangular table, passed from member to board member. Some of them made noises of approval, but a few simply sneered.

"And what do you intend to do? Attack?" the elderly man seated furthest from the head of the table said dubiously. "You do realize we're talking about the two greatest forces this world has known. To battle against not just the Leaf but the Sand as well…"

"Yes, I know what you're thinking…it would be a massacre for our village," intertwining his thinning fingers, the leader of the congregation sank his head behind his hands so that only his aged eyes were visible. They shone with a fierce honesty that belied his inner fears; he knew the situation, and he knew what he had to do for his people, for _his_ country. Few men had commanded a nation for as long as he had, and he wasn't about to give up their greatest creation so easily, not went it could save his rule from utter humiliation.

Coughing, the phlegm in his throat thick from the constant sickness he had to contend against, the shinobi known to many as just the Tsuchikage – indeed, there were few who knew his real name – sat up straight in his seat. "I will _not_ let our weapon lay in the hands of the enemy! I will _not_ let them conspire against us when in fact it is _they_ who have betrayed _us_!"

His strength didn't last long. Spent from his tirade, the old man fell back into his chair, though he still continued to speak to his company. "We sent those sand brats on a mission to return Mifune Hyun-su, and instead of doing so, they decided to side with those overzealous Leaf shinobi, breaking their contract with us. It is only fair that we should take what they failed to give us."

Even the unconvinced miser who previously had doubted the Tsuchikage's verdict was now nodding his head with the others.

"So we are in agreement then. We will dispatch our elite to Konoha, reclaim the girl, and bring her back," making a few personal notes in his scroll, the Tsuchikage scanned the faces of those at his table for any signs of dissention. "Tell the men that I will not accept failure. Even if we cannot find Hyun-su ourselves, my lead researcher has assured me that the little bitch will make her presence known soon enough. Tsunade has her hands full in preparation for the fall festival, so that should give us the cover we need. Are there any questions?'

Silence. The Tsuchikage smiled behind his thick beard, his light brown eyes crinkling with satisfaction.

"Good, they disembark in two weeks time. Meeting adjourned."

* * *

The crisp, cooling air sifted under Hyun-su's thick mane, lifting the small, thin strips of hair like pieces of crepe paper. She breathed in the aroma of the coming harvest season, the light spicy smells of the fields being plowed, the trees heavy with fruit. As a missing-nin, Hyun-su had never been given the chance to really stop and enjoy her young life; six years in hiding had translated into six years that she'd been robbed of the world's natural beauty.

Grasping one of the wrapped tendrils floating against her face, the young kunoichi gazed out from the hotel room's balcony, watching as the new day came upon the village. The fresh wind coming from the east passed easily through the thin fabric of her mottled gray outfit which pulled double-duty as her night garb.

After their dinner together three nights ago, Hyun-su had asked, or rather forced Kankuro to take her back to the hotel room, professing that the strenuous events of the day now required that she retire to bed early. It had only been a slight lie; she was indeed tuckered out, but more than anything, she simply wanted to be alone with the puppeteer, if only just to chitchat. Unluckily for Hyun-su, Kankuro had made for poor company that night, leaving soon after they arrived to smoke another cigarette. He arrived later, smelling absolutely foul and looking far worse. She wasn't sure if he realized it, but his looks weren't all that terrible until he decided to shove one of those fetid cancer sticks in between his lips. When he did that, all of his good-looks disappeared, the sharp, intelligent look in his eyes swapped with a blasé expression and his charismatic nature exchanged for a sour disposition. Hyun-su found it to be a rather sad thing indeed, to see such cunning and handsomeness be wasted for a simple addiction, but she supposed she was a bit biased. As a girl who'd never tasted sake or tried to smoke, it was hard for her to imagine what it must feel like to be lead by hunger or need like Kankuro was. She pitied him, although she knew it wouldn't do him any good to know of it.

At least he'd had the decency to give her the room's only bed, taking the living room couch for himself for the entire duration of his stay in Konoha.

Oh, how magnificent it had been to lie in a bed instead of a meager collection of leaves and branches, to have a pillow nestled below her weary head and warm blankets wrapped around her frigid body! She wasn't sure she could return to a life in the wild after being exposed to such luxuries. Sleep had never come so quickly to her, nor as deeply. Within the walls of the hotel, with her smoke-smelling bodyguard, Hyun-su had felt secure, safe.

Even though he wasn't the most sociable man, Hyun-su was positive of his reliability. The kunoichi sighed, wondering if she would have the chance to sit him down and ask him for some honest answers about why he'd brought her to Konoha, about his life, and of course, about this enigmatic "Ten-Ten" person. She didn't know why, but it bothered her that he obviously had a past romantic relationship with another girl, even though according to him it was now nonexistent.

"Up early, huh?" a disoriented voice arose from the room behind her. Startled, Hyun-su swung away from the balcony to see Kankuro groggily sitting up on the green sofa. Hyun-su had offered him the blanket from off the bed, but either stupidity or pride had kept him from accepting it.

"Yeah, I just wanted to see the sunrise…you don't get to see it too often in the forests," Hyun-su said, closing the glass partition as she reentered the hotel room. As her naked feet padded on the oak-wood flooring, the kunoichi maneuvered around the sleepy Kankuro, eyes still half-lidded. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Nah, I needed to get up sooner or later anyway," rubbing his fingers over his pale, bleary face, Kankuro ambled away, already undoing the sash of his hakama.

The shinobi unknowingly gave Hyun-su tasty glance of his partially revealed backside as he tromped into the bathroom. Her thin, ash-gray eyebrows arched with delight, committing the sight to memory. Listening carefully, Hyun-su heard the shower coming to life, the sound of rushing water and a vinyl curtain being pulled on plastic hooks. Idly touching her face, she found that her skin was hot, nearly sweaty. It made her uncomfortable under her chin and behind her ears. Grumbling at her foolish infatuation, Hyun-su hastily grabbed out a new set of clothing.

Like the ones she was currently wearing, they were boring and dull, so unlike the red and blue outfit Kankuro had first seen her in, that ravishing number that had given the puppeteer more than an eyeful of Hyun-su's skin.

Respecting Tsunade's wishes, the kunoichi had promised to only wear attire that allowed her to blend in with any crowd, in case the village was housing any spies. The fact that no one had seen Hyun-su's altered appearance and lived to tell the tale worked to Tsunade's and Gaara's advantage, but she still needed to look unassuming. The same held true for Kankuro, who had been given a modest wardrobe consisting of a few more kimono jackets and a clean pair of hakama. Temari had stopped by shortly after they'd settled in with their new clothes, and Hyun-su remembered without a glitch the curdling glare he'd given his older sister. He'd muttered something about wanting his old outfit, and Temari's only reply had been to scoff in his face, calling him either "ungrateful" or a "louse", something to that effect.

The red-eyed kunoichi could tell that they _did_ love each other, but only in the manner that siblings did, that rough, coarse affection that only looked like hatred; Hyun-su had to confess that she'd little experience with human bonds, save the one she'd had with her now deceased mother. She guessed in that way, she resented the sand siblings because they had each other in a way she could not experience.

_Mom_…

Itching her tingling nose, Hyun-su denied her raw emotions, tugging at one of her hair wraps. She wished Kankuro would hurry up in the shower; the layer of sweat covering her body was starting to bug her, and it was all _his_ fault anyway.

If she felt any for the man, it was only annoyance. Hyun-su was confident that these stints of misplaced fascination would evaporate as more of his less-than-favorable attributes became known to her. It was only a matter of time. There was no room in her heart for affection and love, especially since the only person who'd shown her real care had been robbed of her.

_I'll never forgive you_…clenching her teeth, Hyun-su walked to bathroom, intent on giving the puppet master a hard time. Before she could even bang on the door once, however, a knocking came from elsewhere in the hotel room. It took Hyun-su several seconds to realize that someone was trying to get in, albeit politely.

_Should I answer it? _Hyun-su asked herself, wondering if she it would be okay to do it herself, or if she should wait for Kankuro. Remembering how he'd abandoned her that one night for a measly cigarette, the kunoichi decided that she didn't need a lug like him around her 24 hours a day; she was a big girl, quite capable of handling an unexpected guest. _Screw him…stupid puppet…_

In a few strides she was at the large front door, although now she was starting to feel a little tentative. The entrance stared at her like a formidable monster, just daring for her to make the first move. When another knock came, Hyun-su leapt back, hand over her heart.

_God, stop being such a damn wuss_, she chastised herself, marshaling her nerve.

Drawing a breath, the kunoichi twisted the handle, focusing her ears, trying to pick up any sounds of an enemy, the jingle of a chain or the clinch of a sword. Hyun-su released the air in her lungs and pulled open the door.

If the Rock had sent a spy or a brigand, they'd sent the most unenthused looking shinobi Hyun-su could remember seeing. He was about her height, with his dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and hoops on both his ears; like Kankuro, he smelled of smoke and ashtrays. Small black eyes stared at her from beyond the doorway, slowly, methodically giving her a once over. Uninterested in what he saw, the young shinobi, shoved his hands deep into his pant pockets, sighing.

"Temari's not here either?" he said nonchalantly, looking past Hyun-su to see if she was with anyone else. "Is Kankuro here? I'm looking for his troublesome sister."

"No," she answered with a tinge of anger in her voice, a bit put off by his apathetic way of speaking. "He's in the shower. Can I help you?"

"Hey, no need to get in a twist, girl!" surprised by her sudden retaliation, the boy pulled his hands out and waved them in front of him defensively. "I know about you…you're Hyun-su, aren't you? Temari wrote about you in one of her letters."

"Oh, she did, did she?" still not sure if she approved of this lazy-looking shinobi, Hyun-su put her hand on the doorknob. "Is she your _girlfriend_ or something?"

He cringed at how it had sounded. "I hate it when people use that word…" he huffed, rolling his eyes. "If you had to call her something, I guess that would work. But anyway, you said Kankuro's in shower?"

"Yes, I'm waiting for him to finish," Hyun-su said. She should have waited for Kankuro; she didn't like being around strangers who knew her name.

The shinobi gave a short, amused chuckle. "Hah! You'll be standing there for a while then! Might as well eat some breakfast…Temari's _also_ written about how her brother likes to take painfully long showers on his days off."

Hyun-su's shoulders slumped to hear this. "You've got to be kidding me…dammit," she cursed, turning from the black-haired shinobi to give the bathroom door a contemptuous glare.

"Well, I had better be off then, no point sticking around," shrugging his shoulders halfheartedly, the young man gave a curt nod to the girl. "Hey, just tell Kankuro that Shikamaru stopped by, okay? Oh, and the Hokage wants to see you two in her office sometime in the afternoon."

He left without waiting for Hyun-su's reply; she assumed he was off to look for the golden-haired fan user. She couldn't imagine a vivacious woman like Temari with such an indifferent boy, but then again, there were _always_ weirder couples to be found.

Taking in a deep inhalation, Hyun-su retreated for the kitchen, recognizing that there was probably some truth in what Shikamaru had told her. Sitting on the marbled counter was a bunch of grapes in a small, porcelain bowl. They were the green kind, Hyun-su's favorite, but when she plucked one off, a wash of sadness flooded her. These had also been _her_ favorite as well. She stared at the small piece of fruit, trapped by her thoughts, recalling how her mother had fed her grapes one at a time when she'd been sick with a cold once, how she'd cleaned them so thoroughly, picked only the sweetest, best tasting grapes for the two of them. It had only _ever _been the two of them.

_Shhhhhhh…_

Hyun-su's ears pricked up as the noise from the shower died down into nothing.

"Finally!" dropping the grape, Hyun-su quickly collected her clean clothes, remembering Kankuro's reaction from the previous day. Not that she was afraid to show more than a little skin, she just wasn't in the mood to give Kankuro what he wanted. However, Hyun-su wasn't completely immune to matters of the heart to not have at least noticed the way he stared at her at times, or the way he'd smiled at her from across the table during their dinner together. Sure, she could just be imagining it, but Hyun-su thought she'd sensed a flicker of _something_ coming from him while they'd dined on sushi and teriyaki beef. Perhaps the only thing he felt for her was respect, in the same way a fighter respected another, Hyun-su suspected, better opponent. She wasn't about to forget that until he'd tricked her, _she_ had been the winner of their duel.

As Kankuro emerged from the washroom, looking decidedly more awake, Hyun-su calmly zipped past him, noting with a devilish smirk his compact abdominal muscles and bare chest. Turning her head to hide her blushing cheeks, the kunoichi rudely shut the door with a hollow slam.

"Jeez, s'not like I was in there for _hours_!" he yelled at her from the other side of the door, gripping the towel wrapped around his waist. Pulling it up higher, for he'd noticed Hyun-su's prying eyes, Kankuro cracked a smile of his own, glad that his little bit of revenge had gone through as planned. He was now well aware of his returning figure, honed over a month of grueling missions. He was also cognizant of Hyun-su's gentle crush on him. He felt a little guilty, showing off his body like that, but he couldn't resist the chance to finally get back at her for having an amazing body of her own.

Kankuro smiled again, although this time it was softer and warmer than his usual lecherous grin. In all honesty, he supposed that Hyun-su wasn't even aware of her own charm, or at least didn't know how to hide it very well. It simmered right below her shell of animosity, that mask that she wore so fiercely in order to protect herself. Perhaps being around the puppet-master had caused that shield to falter, letting her inner-most desires leak through.

"It sure seemed like it! Shikamaru was right about you!" Hyun-su finally called back to him.

"Shikamaru? When did that lazy-nin stop by?" Kankuro staggered, alarmed that his sister's sometimes reluctant boyfriend was spreading rumors about him. "What did he tell you?"

Stifling a laugh, Hyun-su unraveled the yarn from her hair, running her fingers through the long strands to work out any mats. "Nothing _too_ bad…" she teased before starting her own bath, making sure to listen for Kankuro's eminent bellyaching.

A moment later, she was rewarded with a long, drawn out whine that seemed so uncharacteristic of an almost 20-year-old shinobi.

Tsunade had been eagerly awaiting the missing-nin and her guardian, if only because she was enthralled to see how the two of them were "getting along", so to speak. Though she herself was relatively luckless in love, the Hokage could see the interest the two had in each other, and it tickled her ribs like an old woman watching her favorite soaps. She frowned at the thought immediately, knowing fully well that her appearance was a façade that hid her true age, a secret she wished a certain Uzumaki Naruto didn't know about; she detested the way he would call her "Granny Tsunade" as if it were some term of endearment.

_Stupid kid...makes me worried that he might actually become the next Hokage_…the blond-haired woman heaved a sigh, aimlessly scrawling some words on the parchment in front of her. She had a deplorable list of chores today, including a mountain of paperwork, scheduling more events for the upcoming fall gala (which made her wish she'd created a festival committee), and on top of that, she now had to personally oversee the arrangements made for the Suna puppeteer. _Makes me wish I had about three more jugs of sake on hand…_

Turning her planning book about a month ahead, she marked the dates for the three-day long party to commemorate the coming harvest and the arrival of fall, a welcome season for those who hated the burning sun and the scalding humidity. Fall was a pleasant season in the Fire country; the days were mild and cool, and the nights lacked the frigidness of winter. A fan of it herself, Tsunade looked forward to this time of year usually, but preparations for this year's celebration were more than a little jinxed, even without having to deal with the Rock village's little guinea pig. Many of the guest performers had cancelled at the last minute, forcing Tsunade to book other artists and entertainers, and so far, she'd even had zero luck finding a suitable brewer to supply most of the alcohol, a rotten situation for a person such as her.

She first a shuffling noise just outside of her office's doorway, and her keen ears picked up two sets, meaning that her young guests had finally arrived. If anything, this would be a good excuse to separate herself from her monotonous busy work. She called them in before they were even given the chance to rap their knuckles on her door.

"Come in, I've been expecting you," she declared, shoving away the stacks of scrolls and daily admin. It was a relief to not have _that_ in her face any more.

Kankuro was the first to appear, swinging the door open so that Hyun-su could be the first to actually enter. Tsunade's mind stalled at his dramatic show of etiquette, at the way his gaze followed Hyun-su as they walked towards her large, chaotic desk. They bowed as protocol demanded, giving the Hokage the respect she warranted.

"You've requested our presence, Hokage?" Kankuro asked as he stood up straight once more, so unidentifiable without his banraku puppeteer hat. Tsunade had to admit that Gaara's confidence in Kankuro had not been misplaced; no emissary or undercover agent from Iwagakure would know that he was one of the notable sand siblings without his trademark paint and puppets.

The Hokage took a fair-sized gulp from her sake cup. "Yes. I hope that you're first few nights in the hotel went by fairly quietly. So far, I haven't received any complaints from the concierge…" she remarked wryly, giving the undomesticated kunoichi a curt stare. Tsunade still had not totally forgiven Hyun-su for the damage inflicted upon one of her best surgeons. The kunoichi broke away from her heated glower, unable to contend with the powerful woman. "Anyway, I've called you here to give you the latest news on the situation with Tsuchigakure. Gaara's latest reports have stated that they've been relatively quiet, that none of their ANBU or jonin have been spotted past their borders.

"While this may seem auspicious, my senses tell me that they are silently planning their next move. They may be hoping that by laying low for long enough, we'll let our guard down."

Hyun-su contemplated her home village's intentions. Though she knew Tsunade's logic was found, she also was aware of the Tsuchikage's recklessness, one that mirrored her own. They were not likely to "lay low" for any length of time. "How can we prepare in the meantime? I don't suppose you don't want to be truly ignorant of their motives."

"Not in the slightest, Mifune Hyun-su," Tsunade responded, noting with a deepening curiosity how the girl's mouth seemed to tense into a line when her surname was mentioned. The very sound of it seemed to cause her actual physical harm. "I've relegated a small portion of the village's training fields for you to practice. Both of you," tucking her pigtails behind her shoulders, the Hokage now faced Kankuro. "I realize that you are without your normal armaments, and unlike Hyun-su who doesn't rely on traditional blades or knives, you may need to have them in case of an emergency. As such, I've had them brought from your village and stored in secret underground shelter in the field. Shizune can show you the exact location."

Kankuro could barely contain himself; his fingers twitched, missing the chakra strings that were usually connected to his beloved marionettes. Although it had only been a few days since he'd last used them, the time apart instead felt like a lifetime. It was like losing a vital organ for a shinobi to be without his prized weaponry. He tugged on the sleeves of his hakamashita, hoping that Tsunade wouldn't be much longer.

"I must make it painfully clear that you're only to access your puppets while either training or I give you explicit permission; do not take them out of the field or I will have them locked away," Tsunade cut into his thoughts. "Those weapons make you who you are, and they will give the enemy a valuable clue if they catch you with them."

The puppeteer nodded his head fervently. "I understand, Hokage. I won't disappoint you."

"I'd hope not; Baki had given me his word that you wouldn't try anything foolish, and while I may have my own reservations about you, I trust your sensei's wisdom," Tsunade pronounced, the bite in her voice cutting into Kankuro's core. The corners of his thin lips drooped, lessening his enthusiasm; the Hokage had torn open old wounds that felt as painful now as ever.

Watching the conversation from a spectator's standpoint, Hyun-su hadn't the slightest idea why the Hokage would have any suspicions of Kankuro's integrity. Furrowing her pale brow, the young girl studied the sand shinobi's reaction; it seemed he had more than a few secrets of his own, a sullied past with the Hokage perhaps.

"Y-Yes…Hokage," Kankuro stuttered immaturely.

Tsunade smiled. It was good to know that she still had a way with fear; lately she'd been afraid that she'd gone soft on the younger generation of shinobi. Even the timid Hyuuga Hinata had been able to look her directly in the eye during their last mission briefing.

"I need to speak with Hyun-su in private, you can wait for her outside the office. Shizune should be back momentarily, so you can ask her where I've stored your weapons," she said, the edge in her voice gone.

Like always, the puppet-master exited after a short, polite bow, feeling a bit under the microscope while in the Hokage's fearsome presence. He looked over his broad shoulder to see if Hyun-su was watching him leave, but he found with a hint of disappointment that she was already speaking to the Hokage in hushed undertones, their words too soft to be heard.

"So, Naruto was right, you are back."

His face blanched at the voice, which spoke to him angrily seconds after he'd closed the office door. He knew of only three women who could educe this kind of dread, and he'd just left behind two of them. That could only mean…

"Yeah, but I didn't expect you to seek me out like this," his intestines tightening, Kankuro bit the inside of his cheek out of compulsion. Not ready to turn around just yet, the puppeteer allowed his quarry to draw blood before reacting.

"Hey, I never said we couldn't still be civil. I _am _a human being after all, I do have manners," the female said resentfully, challenging Kankuro's lack of morals.

A barb-like sting punctured the shinobi's heart; he was not about to pushed around like this, not while he still had any shred of self-respect. Like a panther he swiveled away from the Hokage's office, his face removed of any doubt or insecurity.

Even without his face paint he still maintained a feral appearance, with his snout-like nose and green cat-eyes. Ten-Ten had prepared herself for this for some time now, but she still felt a shudder of apprehension when he gazed down at her like that, his glare just as menacing as it had been before their friendship and eventual courtship. She'd almost forgotten how tall Kankuro was when compared to the others; with her back straight she still only came up to about his chest, and right now he was slouching.

"You were the one who ignored me, you're the one who wasn't civil, if I remember clearly enough, _Ten-Ten_," Kankuro said her name with such focused malice that he might as well have said a derogatory word. "Don't try and blame things on me. It sure as _hell_ wasn't my decision to end things the way we did."

His accusation caused Ten-Ten to reconsider her next move. Though he'd gone about it in a crude fashion, she couldn't argue that Kankuro was incorrect. She was female, a kunoichi, she wasn't about to give into anger that easily. Looking at his stony face, the brown-haired girl found herself gawking at his eyebrow. "I see you removed your piercing," Ten-Ten commented with an acidic sting.

"Yeah well, I thought it was about time…it didn't really mean all that much to me anyway," shrugging of her nastiness like a piece of dust, Kankuro gazed away with a blank stare, ready to dish out some payback to the girl who'd caused him so much pain. "I had some help."

"Well, whoever they are, it doesn't look like they knew what they were doing. Your face looks like shit," Ten-Ten blurted out, a little hurt by Kankuro's unassuming confession.

Kankuro smiled evilly. "No, I can assure you she's pretty much an expert."

Ten-Ten's jaw dropped like a brick, and she suddenly felt very helpless. "_She_? A _girl_ did that to you?"

"Yeah, got a problem with it?" casually leaning against the wall with one hand, Kankuro could tell that he was getting beneath the girl's skin, and not a single cell in him felt bad because of it.

Lip curling with ire, Ten-Ten barely calmed the bile in her throat in time. "_No_, why would I have a problem with some chick kicking your sorry ass, you stupid-"

Just as she was about to end her insult, the door reopened, with Hyun-su chomping at the bit for a piece of the action. Kankuro's blood heightened with the promise of conflict, hoping that the Hokage would not hear any of it in time to interfere.

"I'd hardly call it an ass-kicking, little missy," the red-eyed girl interjected as the door hitched behind her. Her gut-instinct told her that this was the much reviled "Ten-Ten", given the fact that the two of them were obviously having an argument. As Hyun-su slowly approached the girl with the buns in her hair, her narrow eyes, which had before been squinted with anger now flashed with fear.

"Who are you? How dare you just butt-in like that!" Ten-Ten said breathlessly, the twinge in her stomach nearly causing her to stammer. Though she couldn't quite put a finger on it, there was something about this strange, gray-haired kunoichi that disrupted her normally icy resolve.

"I should be asking you the same thing. Right now you're bothering my bodyguard and getting in my way," she calmly observed the unfamiliar kunoichi, their faces only a foot from each other. Widening her eerie eyes, Hyun-su could see why Kankuro hated her so much; Ten-Ten seemed to be an annoying person who didn't know how to pick her fights.

Ten-Ten's olive eyes bulged at this revelation. "Hah! You're playing baby-sitter, Kankuro? That's cute," she taunted, putting up a front that Hyun-su saw through quickly enough. Crossing her thin arms in front of her white Chinese-blouse, Ten-Ten sneered at the puppet-master. "I see you fancy girls with larger-than-life bra-sizes. Guess I just wasn't up to your standards, eh?"

Her cut-throat tactics hardly upset Kankuro, who'd lost all his fear ever since Hyun-su had shown up. "Ten-Ten, go home and stop bothering me. Like I said before, it wasn't my fault that things went to hell. It was _me_ who wasn't up to your standards."

Shutting her mouth abruptly, Ten-Ten couldn't believe that a man she'd dumped actually had the nerve to talk down at her like this. "I was right about you…you really are a worthless sack of crap, you know that?"

"That might be, but what does that make you then?" Kankuro countered sardonically. "If I'm such a bad guy, then why are you here anyway?"

"Because I just had to see if the rumors were true, that you actually had the balls to come back here…but now that you have a girl like _that_," Ten-Ten paused to flippantly motion at Hyun-su, "I guess I don't have to worry about you stalking me anymore…Just to let you know, I don't regret not answering your calls."

Her last comment bounced off of Kankuro like a fly. Hyun-su, on the other hand, was just getting started, having heard enough from this brazen kunoichi who needed to know her place.

"Listen, bitch, I don't know what has you riled up, but you need to take it someplace else…" she snarled, near-white hair ruffling with irritation. Placing her hands on her hips, Hyun-su took a step towards Ten-Ten, pleased at the way she cowered back. "Hide your tampon string and act like a _real_ kunoichi instead of banking hope on petty arguments."

Shocked by Hyun-su's audacity, the weapons-master could do nothing to retaliate. It was two-against-one, odds that weren't in her favor no matter how sharp her tongue could become. Unlike the other leaf shinobi Ten-Ten knew, _this_ one didn't seem to understand or follow any boundaries; her very voice seemed to have a concealed poison in it, making it that much more powerful.

Giving up, Ten-Ten immediately turned her back and left in a hurry, the indignation clear on her peachy-face.

"What a bitch," Hyun-su said, dropping her hands. "I can't believe you almost let her push you around like that."

Kankuro rubbed the back of his face, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "I have to say this before I explode, but that was _the_ hottest cat-fight I've ever seen between two girls," he said, scuffing the heel of his one sandal on the wooden floorboards. "Remind me to never get into an argument with you."

"Don't worry, I don't intend on letting _anyone_ treat me like that…" the tough kunoichi responded, softening up a little. Now that Ten-Ten had scurried off like a mouse, there was no need to act so mean-spirited. "God, that pissed me off…want to fight?"

"What?" Kankuro gasped out, caught off guard. "Here?"

"No, you dummy, on the practice field! Didn't you find Shizune, or were you too busy with that mouse-girl?" clucking her tongue playfully, Hyun-su lightly slapped Kankuro's face, the complete opposite of the brutal smack she'd delivered to him the other day.

Kankuro had to admit he hadn't planned on being stopped by Ten-Ten and had forgotten to talk with the Hokage's attendant, but that didn't mean he'd lost the urge to spar. "Yeah…about that…I'm sorry you had to see all of that…"

"Whatever," Hyun-su stopped Kankuro in mid-sentence, not caring for his apologies right now. Moving away from Tsunade's work quarters, she beckoned the puppet-master with an incredibly honest smile.

He wasn't sure why, but Kankuro had a good feeling that very few people had seen that smirk on the girl's face, and he felt honored to have now witnessed it more than once. Following her, the brown-haired puppeteer hoped for a duel that rivaled the one she'd just had with Ten-Ten; nothing got his blood boiling like a sincere battle between two competent shinobi.


	14. With This Breath

Disclaimer: Wow, even after fourteen chapters, none of the Naruto characters belong to me! That would be because they belong to Masashi Kishimoto until some crappy tv station ruins it with poor dubbing. However, Hyun-su is mine, and so her voice is left untainted! BWAHAHAHAHA!

Also, as the Naruto series is still in progress, this fanfiction takes place in a slight AU. Any discrepancies between this story and the real manga will be fixed as they are discovered.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter fourteen

The blue strings caused his fingers to vibrate as the hum of energy whistled in his ears, the noise climbing to a feverish pitch. He grinned wolfishly, eternally grateful to the Hokage for reuniting him with both Karasu and Kuroari, though he still did not feel totally complete while still in commoner's clothing with his head bare and face unpainted.

The sound of crackling chakra was comparable to a symphony of psalms to Kankuro, who flexed each of his fingers individually, manipulating the wooden joints of his battle-puppets. They moved with the grace of a phantom, moving front and center in preparation for the duel about to happen. Karasu's straw-like hair bristled and sashayed across his wooden face, and in an act of sheer obsession Kankuro commanded the puppet to brush the hair out of his false eyes, the façade working to masking his inner machinations.

Hyun-su, who had no need for elaborate summonings in order to have her poison and sickle at the ready, clinched her hand around the curved blade's handle, watching with a morbid fascination as her un-living opponents opened their maws to emit that strange, eerie clicking noise. She hated it; it reminded of their first battle, which had ended so poorly for her. Here, the stakes were still the same for the kunoichi, who had sparred so little in her life; the only difference was that she would only shred him to an inch of his life, but not take it. This would be her chance for revenge. No _man_ would defeat her again.

"Hey, I see that fire in your eyes," calling at her from across the practice field, the increasing fall winds nearly carrying his voice away, Kankuro peered at her from behind his allies. "Don't go thinking anything crazy...the Kazekage expects me to be _alive_, after all."

Her face tensed, the muscles around her eyebrows and mouth tightening for just a split-second. It was the only warning she would give him.

Sickle raised like a tiger's claw, Hyun-su blitzed straight across the plain, a line of gray hewing the grass apart as she tore towards the unaware Kankuro. In the moment it took him to blink, Hyun-su had breached the distance between them, avoiding both of the puppets, as their master had not ordered them to attack. He braced himself as Hyun-su suddenly dove at him; the look of pure odium etched on her face told him that she was not going to treat this as some minor practice-battle.

She lashed with her blade, slicing off a few of his eyebrow hairs, the tip nearly scraping the green iris of its bright color. Kankuro gasped and back-flipped just in time, crossing his arms in front of him as he made his escape. In response, Karasu and Kuroari made a direct beeline for the now recuperating kunoichi who was still slicing through the thin-air where the puppet-master had been standing. Turning her head quickly to either side, Hyun-su screamed moments before the two massive wooden-soldiers collided into her, Karasu's un-bladed arms smashing into her collarbone painfully. It had been a gut-reaction on Kankuro's part, whose mind had switched into defense-mode.

Hyun-su crumpled to the ground in a fit of acute tenderness, a trickle of blood filtering past her open lips, her teeth stained ruby red.

"SHIT!" Kankuro shouted, immediately dropping his guard to help the immobilized girl. Dropping to the ground, he cradled her head off of the grassy-floor, pulling down the front of her work-shirt in order to inspect the damage. Gently holding the back of her skull, Kankuro suddenly noticed how rough her scalp felt, as if there was a massive scab there. His mouth agape, Hyun-su's face grayed, becoming discolored as it broke-down into a million small rocks, sifting through his hands like sand falling through the neck of an hourglass. "Pebbles?"

The kick came from behind, Hyun-su's sandaled foot whipping around with sinister speed, so close that he could see the grass stains beneath her toenails. The sole of her shoe cracked into his cheek and in an instant he was airborne, sailing nearly ten feet away. He landed on his chest, his front teeth jamming into the soft dirt. Coughing out the soil, nauseated by the taste, Kankuro realized with a grim determination that he couldn't hold anything back; Hyun-su certainly wasn't.

"So, you want to play things that way?" he sneered as he recovered his scattered wits, climbing to his feet.

Several feet away from him, Hyun-su watched as his grimace turned into a smile of bizarre satisfaction, filled with a single-mindedness that she knew not to test.

"I thought you'd be a better challenge, puppet! Why don't you stop treating me like a lady and start fighting already?" she asked mockingly, drawing her weapon. "I'm beginning to think you _like_ having your ass kicked!"

"Patience, sweetheart, I'm just getting warmed up," Kankuro replied, tweaking his left middle finger, causing Karasu's 4 arms to disconnect. Instead of revealing familiar poison blades, rows of circular saws appeared from the thick, wooden limbs. They began to spin menacingly, cutting the air with their serrated edges. He was pleased to find that his puppet's latest update was operating smoothly, and he was eager to see how his quarry would handle this new threat. Staring at the kunoichi, Kankuro licked his lips, missing the taste of paint.

Her face held a slight sheen, covered with sweat although the sun was hidden behind a thick overcast. Noting this, Kankuro barked, "You're sweating, dear...hope you're not about to wimp out on me!"

Sending Karasu into battle, Kankuro leapt with him, his other puppet not far behind. Bending and arching all his fingers, the shinobi soon began to fence in Hyun-su from all sides in a deadly triangle formation. Effectively surrounded her, Kankuro lunged his left hand outwards and like a whirring battle-ram, Karasu flew with deft speed at his target. The terrifying clamor of those saws seemed to paralyze the younger kunoichi, who only began to dodge at the last second. She escaped expertly, releasing something out of her hand as she jumped out of harm's way. The thin wire sprang at Karasu, gliding like snakes around his separated arms, twisting around the jagged edges in an attempt to clog them to a jarring stop. However, the force of the puppet's saw soon overpowered the bonds, slashing through them, sending bits of broken cord into the air.

Like a bullet, Hyun-su pounced at the marionette, still casting off the last remnants of her wire trap. Relinquishing her sickle, she grasped the two limbs closest to her and suddenly aimed them into Karasu's head. Large chunks of wood immediately chipped off of the puppet as the spinning blades were turned against him in an abrupt twist.

Face locked with rage, Kankuro tugged back on Karasu's arms, struggling to jerk them away from the tenacious Hyun-su, to keep them from further damaging his precious marionette's face. But she'd pushed them far, lodging them deep into the wood and the saw tooth circumferences were now stuck tight. In a last ditch maneuver, Kankuro yanked back on Karasu's mouth joint, which was now hanging on by a single hinge. The poison bomb that ejected out wouldn't incapacitate Hyun-su like a normal person, but the shot had been just right; the small ball smacked her in between her eyes, confusing the rabid girl for a priceless second. Smoke exploded around the girl as she dismounted the puppet, wondering why Kankuro was resorting to his old tricks when he should know better.

"_Dokugiri Zuyoku: Baribari Shikaku Renpatsu (Poison Fog: Blind Spot Destroyer)!_" he bellowed the attack out as the remaining limbs from Karasu lurched to life while at the same time repositioning Kuroari.

Hyun-su, ready for his attack, scooped up her curved blade around, slashing at whatever came too close for comfort. Eyes adjusting to the thick fog that did little accept momentarily blind her, Hyun-su made contact with one of Karasu's arms, and she hammered the butt of her sickle's handle clear through, shattering it like a toothpick.

"Stop fucking up my puppet!" screaming at the venomous girl, Kankuro surged at once through the dissolving miasma, controlling Karasu with one hand, the other holding a kunai. He thrust the knife directly at Hyun-su's throat, hoping that the attack would merely cause her to recoil and pullback. Instead, much to his dismay, she proceeded to charge, and Kankuro, unable to stop his attack in time but unwilling to slash at her, dropped the kunai. His hand now empty, it harmlessly brushed past Hyun-su's neck as she continued to move towards him.

Before he could tell what was happening, Kankuro could feel control over his hand slipping away, as if it were dying. He recognized the signs of poison contamination, but was oblivious as to when and where he'd caught it. Like a gong being struck, the memory of Hyun-su's profuse sweating echoed in his mind, and the final piece fell into the puzzle.

Pushing himself from Hyun-su, Kankuro tucked his now useless hand against his stomach. There was no pain, no sensation or tingling in the extremity. Visibly unnerved, the puppeteer wheeled around quickly, catching the base of her skull with a fierce roundhouse kick. Jumping off the ground, he swung around his unaffected hand.

At first, nothing. Hyun-su was forced into a prone position on the ground, the palms of her hands scuffed from the impact. She spit on the ground; the saliva was pink.

"Is _that_ it? A kick?" she laughed off Kankuro's humdrum attack. With one of Kankuro's hands out of commission, he could no longer manipulate both of his puppets. She clearly had the upper hand; this time, victory was hers. Flipping her menacing sickle from one hand to the other, Hyun-su slowly approached the puppeteer, ready to finish things.

"You forgot what you said to me that day?" Kankuro goaded the girl, tempting her with a fiendish smirk. "Twice the pride?"

It was too late for Hyun-su, who only halfway realized her mistake as the stones, sod and grass beneath her elegant feet began to quake and tremble. Like a cavernous pair of jaws, the entire field cracked apart, but instead of swallowing her, a massive object emerged from the crevice. She recognized the horns immediately and began to scream.

"_Doton: Shinjuu Zanshu no Jutsu (Earth release: Inner Decapitation Technique)!_" Kankuro yelled, commanding the remains of Karasu with his thumb and forefinger and Kuroari with the remaining fingers. As the barrel-like ant-puppet reeled up from the bellows of the earth, it's front latch already open hungrily, the legs that Hyun-su had foolishly spared made a mad dash for her. "Game over!"

With his final battle cry, Kankuro forced the kunoichi inside of Kuroari's hollow stomach. Once the hatch was closed and locked, the puppeteer regarded his trapped victim warily; he was intensely aware of Hyun-su's proclivity for sneak-attacks, and knew of what she was capable of even when caged inside a death-puppet. Though most of Kuroari's prisoners would thrash while inside of him, trying to fight their way out by way of brute force, Hyun-su was being suspiciously quiet. Not about to be caught again, Kankuro, from a safe distance, jerked his pinky finger down, unlocking the wooden panel.

His eyes enlarged to the size of tea saucers when he saw what was inside. Lying on the floor motionless was not Hyun-su, but one of Karasu's partially fractured arms, the saw-blade still extended and spinning a little. Practically out of breath from performing such a high-level technique with his puppet, Kankuro staggered up to Kuroari in disbelief. Picking it up, he inspected it with rising tension. "Kawamiri…" he whispered, instantly dropping the broken limb and scanning his surroundings for his missing prey. He'd expected her to shoot out and slam him onto the ground like before. Surprisingly, she'd used a speedy replacement jutsu to escape, proving that she wasn't just a confrontational beast but also an intelligent tactician.

"Clever bitch," he muttered irritably, wishing for once that he could just beat Hyun-su in combat. Their battles were long and drawn out, tiring him out slowly but surely. She, on the other hand, seemed to possess incredible stamina. With a smile that contradicted his annoyance, Kankuro recalled how Hyun-su, with senbon lodged in every part of her body, had still had the energy to scream and berate him like an angry school-marm.

Deciding to forfeit the duel-turned-deathmatch, not wanting his other puppets to be reduced into kindle, Kankuro was about to shout out his surrender when he suddenly felt himself actually being pulled _inside_ Kuroari.

His face slammed into the inner walls of his own puppets, and Kankuro was soon finding out just how his previous enemies must have felt. The door closed when his feet were fully inside, and everything turned to inky blackness, a pit of accumulated heat. It was highly unusual for Kankuro to actually be in this sort of situation; he was only ever in Kuroari's belly when making repairs, but ironically he was glad that he made the body so spacious. He had plenty of room to stretch, and he started to reform the chakra threads with Kuroari, trying to feel around for the switch that would allow him to escape.

He felt something slither down his neck, causing him to shudder and twitch.

"I'm not alone, am I?" calmly, almost as if he should have anticipated this all along, Kankuro allowed the person who was also within Kuroari to force him flat the wooden floor. As far as he was concerned, there was no way for him to win this. He was definitely out of his element, though one could joke that he was certainly _in_ it. All Hyun-su had to do was coat her body with poisonous sweat and he would be out like a light.

And yet, despite the odds stacked against him, Kankuro sensed that Hyun-su wasn't going to make a final attack.

"What's stopping you now? You've got me right where you want me," the puppet-master said as a pair of wiry arms pulled him into a rough sitting position from above. Kankuro was shocked to discover that she'd been hiding at the top of Kuroari's interior, pressing herself out of view while using chakra to glue her body to the ceiling.

"You're right, I do…" she spoke softly and furtively, her breathes adding to the warmth of the wooden cask. Silently, she crept on top of Kankuro, straddling him in a memorable fashion. Her scratched hands clasped onto his face forcibly and at the same time, they leaned into one another.

The kiss was sloppy and harsh, a thing of need more than desire. In all seriousness, Kankuro nearly believed that she'd already poisoned him again, and that this was merely a resulting hallucination. The Hokage had said she could do that, right?

But no, the saliva on Hyun-su's tongue as it explored his mouth was much too real to be a figment of his imagination, surpassing all of his expectations and obliterating any of his dreams. Behind his closed lids, Kankuro's eyes rolled as Hyun-su dropped a hand, tugging down on the collar of his hakamashita. Suddenly, she attacked the skin of his neck and clavicle with her lips and teeth, biting and nipping him in ways that set his mind ablaze. The groan that he tried to keep in floated up and out of his mouth.

"Hyun-su…no…we can't…god," he said unevenly, trying to push and pull at the same time, knowing that this was wrong in so many ways it practically redefined the term.

"No god…just me," Hyun-su answered, her lithe voice making it hard for Kankuro to resist her unpredicted advance. She blew against his chest, the cool air from her lungs causing a rash of bumps to dot his already heated flesh. "You talk to much…no more talking…"

He laughed gruffly, too stimulated to actually speak, to form coherent words. Powerless to stop himself, Kankuro single-handedly opened the front of Hyun-su's shirt, thumbing the surface of her chest. He earned himself a positive response when the kunoichi craned her head back, exposing her thin neck to him.

The last rational thought that passed through Kankuro's head before he clamped his lips down was how badly he hoped this wouldn't become his life's greatest mistake.

* * *

The voyeur pressed his eyes into the binoculars, his wrinkled face twisting into a perverted smirk, distorting the red lines of paint around his eyes and bulging nose.

Twisting the end of his long, bushy ponytail, the man carefully moved away from the bush he'd been hiding behind for almost an hour. Though his legs ached and his belly was grumbling in discontent, the _action_ he'd witnessed was more than worth the wait. Not only had it been a spectacular battle between the sand shinobi and the white-haired foreigner, but also the activity going on now in the capture-puppets innards wasn't leaving much to imagination based on how the barrel was swaying. The wry smile on his chapped lips pulled back farther, revealing a chipped tooth.

_Tsunade will be most interested in this new…development…_he thought, wondering if it was his place to condemn the young bodyguard like this. There was no questioning how the Hokage was going to react once she found out, although her unusual brand of fairness _had_ been known to surprise him on more than a few occasions. Either way, the old peeping tom wanted to be the first to find out what her judgment would ultimately be.

Moving away from the practice field, slipping his binoculars deep into his green and red jacket, he looked over his shoulder just as two shadowy figures materialized out of Kuroari. Hand in hand, they were obviously in a hurry, and the man gave a sigh, wishing he could be young again and so reckless. Kicking a stone with his ghetta sandal, he realized that the puppeteer had accidentally left his puppets out in the open. Not wanting to totally ruin the young shinobi's future, the elderly, but not frail shinobi returned to pick up the mess, for he too had been that age, young and stupid and bereft of all concern.

* * *

He awakened sore and still tired, unable to claw free from the tangled sheets. Everything was cool and dark, except for the figure lying next to him asleep, snoring that same little bear-cub snore from a month before. His back cracked when he used his arms to prop himself up, and he was instantly afraid that the noise would cause Hyun-su to stir. Thankfully she remained in a deep, relaxed slumber, ignorant of what the new day would bring both of them.

Kankuro rested onto one of his sides, daring a touch at Hyun-su's face. His long fingers gingerly caressed her one eyebrow, tracing the line it made into her hairline, into that deep jungle of gray tangles. He smiled sadly, aware that they'd probably jeopardized whatever relationship they might have had.

It had been an act of lust, pure and raw and unrestricted; he wasn't about to sugarcoat things by calling it anything else. The puppet-master knew the differences far too well. And yet, no matter how much he knew he should, Kankuro could not bring himself to feel regret or shame.

Sure, technically he'd just had sex with the girl he'd been charged to protect. And yes, Kankuro couldn't deny that once his brother found out, and he knew Gaara would, Kankuro's reputation as a dedicated shinobi would probably turn to rot.

But for that one night, in her arms, he'd thought of himself as a person again, not just a tool meant for killing. Kankuro pulled his hand away, and quite unexpectedly Hyun-su's eyes flickered, as if she already missed his touch.

"Hey," he managed to say, trying to sound happy and hopeful. He fought to ignore the unease in his heart, but instead it just hurt.

"Hey you," Hyun-su responded drowsily, obviously spent. Pulling one of her arms from underneath the pillows, the kunoichi stroked his lips, noting how tense they were. "You okay?"

"Yeah…I guess I'm just kinda confused…I mean…what I did…what _we_ did, was it wrong?" he said to both himself and the girl he'd slept with. The last thing he wanted to feel was regret; there was no going back. And it wasn't like it hadn't felt amazing or anything; Hyun-su had completely blown his mind. Never in his life had he been with a woman so fiery or intense. It was usually _his_ job to wear his partner out, but in Hyun-su's case, Kankuro had been the one left panting and begging for more.

"Why? Do you think it was? Did we hurt anyone, is anyone going to be angry at us?" Hyun-su answered him with more questions, and when he thought things through, Kankuro couldn't say "yes" to any of them. Bending his one arm so that he could tilt himself down, the puppet master planted a soft peck on Hyun-su's plush lips. It was the exact opposite of the scorching kisses they exchanged for hours last night.

Kankuro let himself fall back into the ocean of blankets, drawing Hyun-su close to his naked chest, thriving on the warmth he could draw from her. "Tell me this, Hyun-su…at any point last night, was my life in danger?"

His question was only partially in jest. He'd read the Hokage's report, and could fathom up more than a few ways that Hyun-su could have eliminated him in the heat of the moment.

Disappointed by Kankuro's caution, Hyun-su fixed him with an icy gaze. "If I'd wanted to kill you, I would have done so back in the forest, when I beat you the _first_ time."

"Why didn't you? You've never felt mercy for an attacker before me; what makes me so different?" Kankuro said, and he suddenly saw Hyun-su's aura of composure begin to crack. She turned her face away, as if she couldn't bear the sight of Kankuro any longer.

"Because…I told myself when I left Iwagakure that I would _never_ complete any of the missions the Tsuchikage gave me and…" shaking her head a little, Hyun-su felt a tight knot building in her chest. She breathed in a tank of air, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat before continuing, "And…you look so much like him…my first target."

There wasn't any need for the girl to explain herself. Kankuro immediately understood just who she was hinting at, and it made him want to hurt something, anything except Hyun-su.

"He is…_was_ my father, the previous Kazekage before my brother claimed the position," Kankuro muttered crossly. "It's too bad you never killed him, you would have given him the death he deserved sooner."

The hate and loathing in Kankuro's words made Hyun-su realize that just like herself, Kankuro detested his father, that he cursed the blood flowing through his veins. "I'm sorry…If it's any consolation, I was the same way with my dad, too…he was such a fucking asshole."

Kankuro chuckled at Hyun-su's perpetually foul-mouth; he'd always supposed that tomboys could never be sexually attractive. After being proven so very wrong, the puppeteer was starting to feel as though he'd met the perfect mix of sweet and spicy in a woman who refused to be commonplace. She truly was a wild animal, and with another prick of sadness, Kankuro doubted that even a man like him could domesticate her, even though he himself was something of a rebel. She wasn't meant to belong to anyone; that would only cause her to lose that precious sparkle, douse that fire that should never go out.

He had to remember that this was only lust.

The silence was interrupted by a loud cawing or crying directly outside, coming from the hotel room balcony. Wrapping the top blanket around himself, leaving the sheets for Hyun-su, Kankuro tiptoed across the bedroom, cagily making his way towards the source of the strange, early-morning racket.

Pulling apart the curtains, his stomach sank a little at the sight of a brown and gold eagle, perched on the balcony's metal railing.

Tsunade wanted to see them.

((A/N: I hope I didn't offend any one with the slightly risqué content of this chapter. I decided against a full-fledged sex-scene in order to please my readers and keep my integrity. Anyway, enjoy and as always, comments and critiques are VERY welcome!))


	15. Forest Brawl

Disclaimer: Just like before, Naruto characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto, while Hyun-su is my very own brain child.

Also, as the Naruto series is still in progress, this fanfiction takes place in a slight AU. Any discrepancies between this story and the real manga will be fixed as they are discovered.

**Altered Carbon**-chapter fifteen

"There's no one else for this? You've got to be kidding me!"

Kankuro slammed the mission document onto Tsunade's desk, rattling the inkwells and sake cups upon it. Narrowing her brown eyes, the Hokage ignored the clinking of glass against porcelain, along with the migraine forming behind her eyeballs.

"I assume you can read, _can't_ you?" she remarked with her traditional sarcasm, steadying a nearby saucer before it could tip over, spilling its delicious contents. "All of my most reliable shinobi are already occupied with other high-level combat missions. The Kazekage has given me permission to employ you as I see fit; surely, a B-level assignment won't scare a skilled shinobi such as yourself off, will it?"

"_No_, but I don't see why I have to have more jobs placed on my back when I already have a previous obligation," raking his fingers through slightly greasy brown hair, Kankuro didn't like his brother's sudden habit of using him as a stand-by shinobi for hire. They were allies with the Leaf, but the puppeteer saw this as pushing the boundaries a bit too far.

Tsunade easily detected the dissatisfaction on the puppet-master's face, and though she did carry some sympathy for him, she also had a village to run. "This is _not_ a matter open for debate, Kankuro. The point is, I need capable hands, and I know that both you and Hyun-su will be able to handle this job without too much trouble. I can't go sending greenhorns to do a jonin-worthy task."

Her flattery was wearing thin on Kankuro's patience. It was crappy enough that he hadn't been able to even take a proper shower, but now this? Standing next to him, he could feel Hyun-su trembling anxiously. Obviously, she'd presumed that the reason for this impromptu assembly was to discuss their unprofessional conduct; the thought had troubled Kankuro as well.

"Tsunade, aren't you worried that by deploying us, you might endanger Hyun-su's secrecy?" convinced that they shouldn't involve themselves in any shinobi affairs, Kankuro rhythmically drummed his fingers on the top of the desk.

"If this mission was taking place far outside of the village, I might have considered that a threat. However, as luck would have it, the thieves in question are rumored to be located just along the perimeter, hiding in the forest," Tsunade explained meticulously, defusing Kankuro's escape route. Collecting the few sheets of paper and depositing them into the proper folder, the blond-haired Sannin passed them off to Shizune who dutifully left to make the appropriate arrangements. "Hyun-su has extensive knowledge of the target area, so she can act as a guide, as well as providing any necessary back-up. I hope you don't mind, but I haven't put you on this mission's payroll."

The kunoichi realized that Tsunade was referring to her, and her face blanched. "N-no…that's okay," tripping over her own tongue, Hyun-su, while not the type of person to obey anyone, knew that this woman could overpower her in mere seconds. Sakura had told her much of her teacher's abilities, and she sounded like a brutal fighter; Hyun-su would be a fool to defy her in any way. Tsunade could probably repel and nullify all of her poison attacks and then destroy her body with a single punch.

"Glad to hear it, at least _one_ of you knows who's in command," smiling sagaciously, the Hokage turned her attention back onto Kankuro, who had been the target for her last burning comment. "As you are no longer acting as a bodyguard during this task, I've requested a set of battle garments be made for you. Both of you will return here immediately after completing the mission successfully. I do not expect failure."

Her words echoed with bottomless seriousness. It humbled the puppeteer who found the woman's fierce gaze to have an almost crippling power to it.

"Now, my seamstress will get your measurements; she should have it ready for you in less than an hour. Afterwards, two of my personal guards will escort you to the southern exit," Tsunade explained. She then motioned for the pair to leave her office, but just as they were about to reach the door, she said, "Oh, and I'm permitting you to use Karasu and Kuroari outside of the practice field…I assume you _did _put them away safely after your last session."

The hairs on Kankuro's arms stiffened as an electric current rippled beneath his skin. Did she know? He'd planned on retrieving his puppets in the morning anyway, but there was something along the lines of suspicion in Tsunade's voice. She was a shrewd woman, and Kankuro could tell that keeping a secret from her, no matter if it wasn't really her rightful business, wouldn't be a walk in the village.

"Yes, they're both battle-ready," he responded confidently. Looking past Tsunade's golden head at the round mirror hanging on the wall, Kankuro took one glance at his pale face and blurted out, "What about-"

"Shizune has already purchased you some kabuki paint, Kankuro…I must request that you leave me now," she butted in cunningly, confounded the puppeteer. "I have some important business to attend to. The seamstress in on the first floor of the building."

"Come on, Kankuro," Hyun-su said urgently, tugging him out of his stupor. Not wanted to perturb the Hokage into one of her legendary tantrums, the two youths unquestioningly left, feeling a bit uneasy with the entire situation at hand.

Though her motives seemed logical, Kankuro couldn't shake the feeling that he was being tested. For what, he couldn't tell, but the notion still caused his guts to lurch queasily. They made their way into the hallway into the silently, only speaking once Tsunade's heavy door was shut tight.

"I can't believe this…" Kankuro groaned in despair, sorely tempted to bash his head against a wall. Then at least he wouldn't be "jonin-worthy" any longer.

"Hey, it could be a lot worse, you know that," Hyun-su reassured the troubled shinobi with a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. "If we don't go along with this, it will only give the Hokage a reason to distrust us…as far as anyone knows, last night is still a secret."

She was right, and Kankuro hated that. He hated feeling so helpless, so open. He hated having to deal with someone else's problems when he had plenty of his own. Swaying his head tiredly, Kankuro moved around Hyun-su. "God, I feel repulsive…I don't want anyone's hands on me this early in the morning…" smelling his armpits, Kankuro loathed the thought of some cranky sewing-lady stripping him down to his skivvies.

Giggling in spite of Kankuro's dilemma, Hyun-su skipped in front of him, pulling his one ear close to her lips. "What if they were my hands?" she whispered deviously, reveling the strong blush that covered his forehead and nose. Whether or not he knew it, Hyun-su loved how easy it was to fluster him, even when he tried to act all "big and bad" around her.

"I don't want to think about that right now!" he stammered wildly, pressing down on the front of his hakama, in no mood to deal with _that_, indeed. His thoughts being pulled towards duty and another romp in the sheets, Kankuro grumbled loudly as he made for the stairs, leaving Hyun-su and her tempting ways back on the third floor.

* * *

He focused intensely on the elderly woman holding the long piece of string across his shoulder blades, shouting out numbers to her young assistant. Every time she called something out, Kankuro would concentrate all of his energy into remembering it, blocking out all else. When the small room would become silent again, it was then time to direct his attention towards the racks of clothing tucked away into one of the corners, counting how many were finished, how many were still in plastic bags, _anything_.

And yet it wasn't enough to ignore the grating voices behind him, coming from the two girls who were also under the seamstress' tutelage. They were trying to speak under the radar, whispering from their sewing machines and bolts of brightly colored fabrics, none of which he hoped they were planning on using. But once or twice a ridiculous comment would break free.

"Get a load of _that_, why can't Konoha shinobi be _that_ hunky?"

"I have _no_ idea, Sayuri, but that is one _hard_ body!"

It appeared as though Temari had been spot-on with her earlier prediction; perhaps he would end up using Sanshouo for his own protection against these carnivorous women. Kicking his foot restlessly, the puppeteer accidentally caused the seamstress to drop her measuring tape just as she was scrolling it up from his ankles.

"Stop flinching, Suna-boy! I'm almost done!" she demanded in a heavy Asian accent, snatching the tape up roughly. Careening her head around Kankuro's kneecaps, the old woman snapped her two young associates to attention. "Sayuri! Chiyeku! I don't need any idle hands! Keep those fingers occupied or go home to your mother! I've got too much to do and not enough room for live bodies; I may be your grandmother, but that doesn't mean you can slack off!"

Immediately the sisters dropped back to their stations, freckled faces stiffening with fear for their master's wrath. Apparently, Tsunade enjoyed keeping women of like-mind in her palace; first Shizune, then Sakura, and now this hardhearted grandma. Kankuro smiled, thankful that their silly comments would finally be at an end.

"Okay, that's all I need…now, what style did you want it to be? And color?" putting away her measuring device, the seamstress stood up off the crowded floor, careful not to knock over her body form. "I assume you'll want it to match what you normally wear."

"Correct, it's a pretty simple outfit, all black," he said, pulling his hakamashita back over his bare shoulders. "Can I just sketch it out for you, or do you need a verbal description?"

"Whatever, I can work from both. Just be quick about it! I have ten more outfits after yours that I need to finish for the festival! Busy, busy!" she yapped, already searching for a long-enough length of black cloth. The seamstress swiftly took Kankuro's numbers away from her more studious intern and tossed a scrap piece of paper and pencil in front of the puppeteer. "Jus t write it down there, and come back in about 50 minutes. Unless those dolt granddaughters of mine screw it up, it should be ready by then."

Craning over one of the work benches, Kankuro hastily drew the best representation of his outfit that he could, paying extra attention to his puppeteer's cap. It had to be exactly right, or he wasn't going to wear it at all. The moment he'd completed the draft, the seamstress, who'd been waiting for him to finish, seized it from under his own fingers. Arching a painted-on eyebrow, she scrutinizing it with a keen, experienced eye.

"Not bad, you obviously aren't as incompetent as you look, Suna-boy," she said cattily, arching her eyebrows at the young man's sketch, mind obviously churning the information. Shooing him away, the ripened woman with the face of a dried fruit quickly began yelling out orders, stirring her helpers into a frenzy of motion.

Hyun-su had been sitting on the floor outside of the seamstress' room, and Kankuro abruptly held his breath once he saw her. She had fashioned a crude human figure out of two pieces of paper, obviously dug out from the trash. Utilizing her chakra strings, which were nowhere near as sturdy as his own, the kunoichi was actually trying to make the small paper-doll move like one of Kankuro's puppets. The scene was so delightfully cute that Kankuro didn't want to interrupt. Moving a little ways back so that the door frame hid him, the puppeteer observed as Hyun-su managed to get the makeshift puppet up and walking, but it staggered like a drunken man, falling over several times. Too frustrated to try again, she crushed it with a balled fist. Tossing her failed experiment into the can it had originally come out of, Hyun-su proceeded to slouch up against the wall with a pouting look on her face.

"You were doing pretty good, you know that? Not bad for a first try," Kankuro spoke up, emerging from the shadows of the doorways, much to Hyun-su's shock. It was nice for once to be not be the victim of a blush-fest, Kankuro thought as he tried not to laugh at the surprised girl with the ash-gray hair. "Most people burn their fingertips from the high concentration of energy."

"Don't scare me like that!" Hyun-su exclaimed, still a bit shaken from Kankuro's dramatic entrance. Once her heart had slowed down enough, she crossed her arms angrily in front of her. "Well, I'm not like _most people_, am I? My fingers are already calloused from playing the dulcimer."

Shoving a hand towards Kankuro's face, he saw that the tips were in fact not fleshy or smooth but tough and leathery, her finger prints nearly unperceivable. The first time she'd touched his head, he'd noticed that they did feel strange, certainly not as soft as the _rest_ of her. Now, at least he had a concrete explanation…that is except for one thing.

"What's a dulcimer?" he asked, trying to hide his blatant ignorance.

Hyun-su thought of the best place to start. "Well, you already saw it in-person three days ago, you dumb snoop," the girl started mockingly, reaching out for a boost Kankuro knew she really didn't need. Regardless, he helped her back on her feet as she continued. "It's kinda like a violin that sits in your lap. There are four strings and you press on them with your left hand fingers to make the different notes while plucking with your right."

"Sounds easy enough," Kankuro commented, although he hadn't the slightest clue what Hyun-su was talking about. He had never really been interested in instruments or singing or music; his chosen profession didn't give him much time for any other distractions besides the puppet-craft.

"You're so full of it, you know that?" Hyun-su said with a derisive laugh. "Maybe one day I'll teach you how to play it."

Her suggestion yanked at the fibers of Kankuro's heart. Perhaps she was only trying to fool herself, but the puppeteer doubted they'd be in close contact once Gaara and Tsunade were finished with his services in Konoha. Though he sorely wanted to believe otherwise, Kankuro didn't think much else could come from a one-night stand except hurt-feelings and empty promises.

The truth rang so clearly and sincerely in Kankuro's head he was surprised Hyun-su couldn't sense the reverberations as well.

"Maybe," he answered, sounding a little distant. "We should hang tight for now. I want to get this stupid mission over with…I wonder if there's anything to eat around here."

"There's a small café right outside the palace; Sakura told me about it one day," recalling a previous conversation with the pink-haired kunoichi, Hyun-su tapped her lips knowingly.

"Is that so? Well, I guess it won't hurt to get a quick bite, I'm starving!" rubbing his stomach, Kankuro eyes glinted with a ravenous hunger.

"When are you _not _hungry? I swear you're like a black hole!" Hyun-su said, prodding Kankuro in his taut belly.

"Hey! I'm a growing boy, I need my three square meals a day!" Kankuro laughed as he tried to avoid the girl's poke-attack. There was no refuting that Hyun-su was a blast to have around; she new exactly when to kid and when to act serious. In many ways, she reminded him of his own stubborn sister, which was kind of creepy once he thought about it.

"If you keep eating all the damn time, the only direction you'll be growing is sideways!" ceasing her assault once she saw tears of amusement building in Kankuro's eyes, Hyun-su tried to imagine the puppet-master looking pudgy, but she found the task to be impossible after seeing so much of his muscular figure in the last 24 hours. It was the only thing she could think of besides Tsunade's assignment, and Hyun-su was already finding it hard to resist pulling the puppeteer into a dark room to tear off his clothes again.

If Kankuro truly thought he was the only one suffering from separation-anxiety, he was in for a bolt from the blue that would knock him out of his own sandals.

"Yeah, yeah, Temari's given me the same speech already, don't wear it into the ground, alright?" he whined, hoping that the similarities between this kunoichi and his tessen-wielding sister wouldn't become too glaring. "Now, let's head to this café of yours, I hate fighting on an empty stomach."

"It can't possibly make you any crankier…heh, Kranky-Kankuro!" smiling brightly, Hyun-su's eyes closed into two small slits, tickled by her own joke.

Together, they briskly walked out of the palace, either ignoring or overlooking the young shinobi in white who passed them by. His silvery eyes flashed menacingly for a moment, the veins around them bulging, pulsating with chakra.

* * *

Hyun-su whispered to the man next to her, tugging the sleeves of his new outfit. "Pssst…hey," she murmured like a school-child trying to cheat on a test, "Trip the one on the right with a chakra string!"

He shot her a dull look. "Why am I not surprised to hear you say that?" he said in a bratty tone, tucking his caramel-colored hair back behind his ears. Kankuro had to give that screechy woman a hand; she'd done a bang-up job of recreating his puppeteer's suit from a scribble that had been little more than a stick figure with clothes on it. It actually fit _better_ than the one back home, since it took his shrunken dimensions into consideration.

"Because it would be a-may-za-zing," playing with the ends of her periwinkle blue scarf, Hyun-su strutted along the cobblestone path, worn from the years of having to bear the weight of Konoha's villagers. "Plus, I don't like having these monkey-men walking us around like we're criminals on death row or something."

"I might not like it either, but this is a mission, we need to be serious," he muttered to the antsy-girl who had also donned her old garments. Peering at the deep-red turtleneck, the puppet-master spotted a quick patch-job directly over her chest; his painted lips contorted into a heavy frown.

Even after a month, Kankuro could never truly forget the sight of Hyun-su bleeding to death in his shaking arms. He thought the pain it left was like a bruise that would never go away. Pulling his cat-eared hat over tight over his head, yanking a little on the side flaps, Kankuro suddenly realized that he'd yet to explain what had really happened after she'd passed out that day. Ruefully shaking his head, he tore his eyes from the stitches on Hyun-su's shirt, thinking to himself, _Another time, another place, __Kankuro…_

"And I would know what happens during a mission _how_?" stretching out the last word sarcastically, Hyun-su slowly pulled on her gloves. She, like Kankuro, was happy to be out of those scratchy clothes, though she resented the lecherous stares Tsunade's guards gave her from time to time.

"Guess it has been a while since you're last official shinobi task…" Kankuro remarked with an air of disbelief. He'd forgotten that she'd defected from Iwagakure at the age of 12, forgoing her final mission: to assassinate the fourth Kazekage. It was hard for him to imagine a little girl, barely a teenager, killing his own father, but then again, Gaara had been thirsty for blood at that age, too. It had been a sign of the times, sending mere children out on the hunt.

The two men in chuunin flak vests halted in front of them; one of them pointed at Hyun-su's hips, resulting in the kunoichi giving him a biting sneer.

"Your forehead protector, we'll need that for safe-keeping," he explained shortly, chewing on the senbon lodged in between his teeth. "Hokage's orders."

"I get the picture, take the damn thing," the girl spouted, twisting off the defaced metal plate. She shoved it into the man's outstretched fingers, treating it like the piece of garbage she felt it really was. The only real reason she kept it around was to gladly proclaim her ex-patriotism.

Quietly unlocking the small door in the village's perimeter fence, which seemed so very dinky and unimportant when compared to the two-story main gate, the other guard ushered them through. No sooner had Kankuro shut the door behind him than it opened again. The toothpick-man was standing only a few feet from the exit.

"Tsunade asked us to give this to you, it has all details you'll need. Meet us back here in two hours," he said, passing a small scroll off to the green-eyed shinobi. Whispering a "good luck", he disappeared again. A tenuous click told Kankuro that he'd fastened the door's lock.

Unfurling the document, Kankuro replayed the mission's objectives in his mind; if things when smoothly (though they rarely did), this would be a fairly routine job. Apparently, a band of thieves had been messing around with some of the villagers, looting their homes at night, and then selling their belongings back at double the cost. It was Kankuro's job to teach them a lesson by arresting their leader and roughing up the whole lot of them. To him, it sounded like a spot of fun.

"Okay, fearless leader, where to?" making sure that her treaded boots were buckled tight, Hyun-su peered at the scroll impassively, not at all used to this whole idea of working an honest-to-goodness mission. In the wild, she'd scraped a living by accepting small jobs or even participating in a little thievery of her own. It was never anything major, just stealing a few ryo from anyone stupid enough to traipse into the forest unprotected or inebriated (sometimes both). _This_ was something far grander, and even though she wasn't being paid for it, Hyun-su actually did feel good to be helping the Hokage out in some way other than scrubbing down her floors and dusting the bookshelves.

"Hey, I'm not the one who's gonna do _any_ of the leading today!" said Kankuro, slipping the scroll past the closed door after he'd memorized the contents.

"So I get to do all the work then?" Hyun-su teased. After a moments thought, she took a step to the west. "We should start this way. I remember a group of hoodlums that matched the descriptions Tsunade gave us; they'd made their fort along the river."

"Now that we have a bearing…shall we, fearless leader?" Kankuro gave a low, grandiose bow, indicating that Hyun-su should start the charge. Again, her sudden indecision startled him, perking his interest. He was the kind of person who enjoyed "figuring people out", and this kunoichi was becoming quite the wonderful challenge, being a strange mixture of maturity, wickedness and naivety.

Feeling rather awkward to be in a position of power, Hyun-su gave a feeble nod. They began the journey into the forest in silence, knowing that from this moment on, their work was about to start.

* * *

At first glance, the pile of scrap metal and rubble made little impression on Kankuro. It was nothing more than a hobo's home, barely keeping itself standing on its near-broken poles, the wind winning an easy battle against the it's threadbare roof. Thin cobwebs festooned all parts of the shanty, covering the rotted wood and shattered glass windows.

But Kankuro's eyes were keen, and not easily fooled by any sort of trick. The enemy had unknowingly given them a very valuable clue.

"_Genjutsu_…" scoffed Kankuro with amusement clear in his voice.

Hyun-su narrowed her eyes at the hut, struggling to see it; if only _her_ red-eyes were like those of the Uchiha clan, then she could discern the boundaries of the illusion. Leaning on her branch in one of the woods many trees, the girl turned to look at the shinobi on the next bough over. His creaked precariously, struggling to hold his weight. He'd lost most of his excess fat, but the muscle that replaced it was even heavier, making him unwieldy on such a thin branch.

Making a sun visor with a flattened hand, Hyun-su said, "How can you tell? All I see is that shitty lean-to."

"Look at the way the light's hitting it…directly from the back," Kankuro pointed out, shifting his body towards the base of the limb, where it would be stronger. He envied the skinny girl, who was perfectly balanced on all fours like a cat. "We're in a relatively open area of the forest, so there's a lot of light coming down. But look at the shadow, it's so small, definitely not big enough for a shack."

Her eyes widened as she grasped at what Kankuro had discovered. While she felt a tad bit stupid for not noticing this first, Hyun-su gave the barest nod of affirmation as she scanned the dense floor of broken twigs and fallen leaves, all of which were golden brown or red.

"Trap?" she suggested, hinting that the carpet of foliage was possibly another cover-up.

"Not a very good one at that, I've seen _genin _construct better tiger-traps," Kankuro said as he manifested a thin, slightly shimmering chakra thread. Pushing it towards the ground, the puppet-master remotely gripped a few of the leaves, tugging them calmly to the side. A pit of black was hidden underneath.

"Do you think they're in there or concealed in the illusion?" untying her scythe from her side-belt, she kept complete control of her facial features as she awaited the command to strike. Slowly, her kunoichi-instincts were returning, that trained ability to wait in the shadows, respect her surroundings, and above all, follow orders. She'd been the one to find the thieves hideout, but it was now Kankuro's turn to manage their attack.

"The pit, it makes sense…why would they sequester themselves within a Genjutsu above ground when they could hide beneath it? The house is a diversion, a lure," he replied softly while he unwrapped Karasu. He doubted he'd need such heavy firepower, but better to be over-prepared than under. "On my mark, throw a few senbon into the crater."

Readying the volley, Hyun-su rolled up her one sleeve. Kankuro stopped her before she could pierce her own hairless skin. "No poison…I only want them to scatter…we need to use scare tactics and reserve unnecessary force."

"That doesn't sound like much fun," Hyun-su groused at the shinobi's stuffiness.

"Don't worry, fun comes later," he replied with a grin, promising the girl a battle. Recomposing himself, Kankuro chopped the air with his hand, whispering harshly, "_Now!_"

_THWIP! THWIP!_

Like a pair of diving peregrines, the needles flew from Hyun-su's fingers, intent on seeking out their prey. Dashing past the thin layer of twigs and vegetation, a throng of cries discharged from the pit as the senbon located flesh and bone; at the same moment, the mirage-hut dissolved. The thieves scrambled out of the pit, crawling over each other in a race to get out first. Several of them were partially impaled by the delicate needles, none of them fatally injured though one had been struck dangerously close to his groin. Kankuro chuckled as they slipped on the damp, decaying leaves, questioning why Tsunade had sent him on what could have been easily handled by a chuunin. Cracking his knuckles eagerly, the shinobi deployed Karasu to round up the straggles that had successfully broken free. His headpiece was still scarred from the duel with Hyun-su, but it enhanced his hideous appearance quite well.

"Leave some for me!" Hyun-su said, elated to finally have the chance to bare her claws.

As the gruesome battle-puppet wreaked havoc upon the brigands, Hyun-su sprang down from her branch. She immediately began to tear through the crowd of men, hissing and lashing terribly.

"It's a-a monster!" one of them screamed just as a spray of senbon flew into his thighs and calves, effectively downing him.

Karasu swiped his four arms at a thick pack of bandits, cuffing the weapons out of their hands and confusing them. From the petrified looks they wore, Kankuro knew they'd never witnessed a puppet in action. Wringing his human-size weapon to rob a few more men of their kunai and tanto, the black-clad shinobi also turned in time to witness Hyun-su mauling a thief, a chakra string wrapped tightly around his ankles. From the way he was trying to crawl away on his elbows, Kankuro had to guess that his Achilles tendon had been ruptured. He could only imagine the hellish pain the man was experiencing.

"I said _**unnecessar**__y _force! Leave him and find the leader, he can't be that far away!" Kankuro hollered at the toxic kunoichi, hoping to whatever god that she hadn't killed anyone, either by accident or on purpose. When he knew he had her attention, he shouted, "I'll stay here and-"

He was interrupted by a splash of red exploding from Hyun-su's hand and the harrowing scream that followed it.

Something was badly wrong, Kankuro could see it in Hyun-su's red eyes, which quivered as she plummeted onto the ground, clutching something desperately. Clouting his current pool of adversaries onto the ground, the puppet-master raced to help his temporary squad mate. He pulled out a single kunai and drove it straight into the stomach of the man who'd attacked Hyun-su. Without a single utterance, he fell to the ground dead. They'd disposed of most the horde now; those that weren't dead or incapacitated had fled for safer grounds.

"Ah…ah…" Hyun-su breathed in ragged, uneven gasps, her chest pumping up and down sporadically. "It h-hurts…"

She stared at Kankuro weakly as he came around, too shocked to move or speak. Her left arm was sodden with blood, and when he pulled her hand away –

"Your fingers!" blurted Kankuro, the skin beneath his face paint turning green.

Her little finger and the one next to it had been lopped off when she'd been distracted by Kankuro. Hyun-su's head swam, blood pulsing strongly from the stumps where her fingers had once been. Bizarrely, the pain wasn't that great, nothing compared to the chest wound she'd previously received, and a part of her mind registered that with a dull surprise. Looking at the damage, Hyun-su forced herself to not vomit when she spotted her slashed off digits, curled like a bloody quotation mark beside her. She laughed.

"Stop that," Kankuro said seriously, inspecting the still bleeding hand. Apprehensively, he picked up her severed fingers and, taking off one of his gloves, placed them inside. Handing it to Hyun-su, who was still shaking uncontrollably, he spoke in a firm tone, "Head back to Konoha, go straight to Tsunade, she can help you."

No response; Hyun-su simply glared at his soaked glove that held her poor lifeless fingers. Tears started to run down her cheeks, more from fear and trauma than anything else. A second later and she started to dry-heave, unable to fight the nausea.

"Do as I say, Hyun-su, I'll finish this by myself!" dragging the girl to her senses, as well as back up on her feet, Kankuro briefly deliberated whether or not he should abandon the chase or not. He'd caught sight of the leader a few moments before Hyun-su had been attacked; in as little as two minutes Kankuro could properly detain him and return back to the village. His mind set, the shinobi nudged the girl away from him, cajoling her to retreat. "_Go!_ You know the way back!"

Not stopping to check if Hyun-su had made her escape, Kankuro burst into a sprint, heart racing with a second-wind. Karasu zipping alongside him, the puppet-master and his weapon made haste for the head thief, _more_ than ready to complete their objective.

_Hyun-su's a tough girl…she can make it back…she's a tough girl…_he told himself earnestly. His resolve shriveled at the thought of what might happen should a straggler find her off with her back turned.

A stray branch clipped his face as he charged, brain moving into overdrive when he heard the sound of panting, not even 15 feet in front of him. Ignoring the sting, Kankuro focused the chakra in his body into his feet. He released the stored energy seconds prior to jumping, shooting him forward like a cat-eared rocket. The rage radiating from his face was practically tangible.

With a deafening _thud_ Kankuro plowed into the man's spine, and he made sure that his elbow bore deep enough to knock the air from his lungs. Landing in a pile of sprawled arms and legs, the puppeteer hurriedly summoned his chakra strings, his face red and sweating from the rabid pursuit. His lungs ached as he placed the thief into a submission hold, a warning that his smoking was affecting not only his temperament, but also now his ability to run on the fly. However, he'd have time to reconsider the habit _after_ he arrested this felon, who was easily identifiable as the leader by his clothing and weapons, which surpassed those of the other thugs.

Binding the man's wrists, Kankuro vehemently grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, bringing their faces painfully close. "You," he spat out, compelled by revenge for Hyun-su's injuries, "You are under arrest by order of the Gondaime Hokage under the charges of armed theft, harassment, disorderly conduct, and being a fucking asshole. I don't give a _shit_ as to what you have to say, because you're going to jail anyway."

Despite the warning, the compromised thief began to sputter pathetically. "They made me do it! I didn't want to do it…they had my family captive! They were going to kill them!"

"Shove it," he grumbled, moving on to his legs. Taking a page from Hyun-su's book, he pulled the chakra threads excessively; red blemishes soaked through the fabric of his pants.

"No! I'm telling the truth! I was _blackmailed_ to come here and raid the village! They wanted to draw out the Hokage's shinobi, empty the village," jaw clenching in pain as Kankuro yanked on the chakra strings again, the leader began to cry.

His strained confession made Kankuro falter, and he eyed the man curiously. "Tell me everything you know, or I'll kill you. _Who_ told you to come here?" he commanded, catching his own bluff; there was no way he could murder this man, not when the mission directives specifically said to bring him back alive and unspoiled.

"I've got the list of names here, it's in the pocket of my shirt, the one on the inside," he divulged, tipping his chin to emphasize where Kankuro ought to search. "Just take it and let me go!"

"We'll see about that," Kankuro said, though he had no intention of releasing his target. Keeping his eyes fixed on the man, the shinobi carefully started to undo the latches of his jacket.

The tanto barely made a noise as it zipped past Kankuro's head. At first he thought the blade had been meant for him, coming so close to his face he could actually feel the heat spilling off of it. He recoiled as it suddenly plunged into the jugular of the head thief, slicing clear through to the other side.

"_Fucking Christ!_" falling flat on his behind, Kankuro cursed aloud as his quarry collapsed onto the forest floor, thick washes of blood staining the entire front of his body, so concentrated that it was nearly black in color.

Kankuro swiveled his neck around, expecting to find a hunter-nin breathing down his neck, sent into the forest to dispose of any incriminating evidence. He prepared himself for what could be the last moments of his life.

A ragged cough echoed in the muted forest.

"Hyun-su?" he said in an exasperated tone, relieved to see that the kunoichi was still alive, though she'd deliberately disobeyed him. He glanced back towards the grisly sight of the now-deceased thug, his throat still gushing, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with a new, terrible truth. "You _killed_ him? _You killed him!_ We needed him alive, Hyun-su! Oh God, Tsunade is going to fucking _castrate _me…why did you do that?"

"Because _you_ weren't, you thankless son-of-a-bitch!" she barked out in spite of the dizzying ache in her hand. The bleeding had slowed, but not stopped. In time, if she didn't seek medical attention, the chances of being able to reattach her fingers would diminish to zero percent.

"He was _about _to show me a list of potential threats to Konoha before you came and did _that_!" flinging his hands at the lifeless corpse, Kankuro could sense the bile rising in his smoke-damaged throat. All his thoughts were on how Hyun-su's thoughtlessness had cost them their mission. "He had a family he was trying to protect!"

"Are you really from Sunagakure? Are you really a shinobi?" starting to feel faint from overexertion, the kunoichi yelled at Kankuro with what little strength she had. "Are you really the son of the ruthless fourth Kazekage?"

"_BITCH!_" enraged, Kankuro's brain started to pound as he seethed at the girl, "Don't you _ever_ compare me to that ass!"

"Just take a look at what that man _really _had youreaching for, dumbass!" Hyun-su answered with an equal amount of irritation in her voice, stomping one of her sandals. She was beginning to wish she'd never helped the puppet-master, never met him at all. "You saw through that Genjutsu from before, why is this so different?"

Stunned by what she was arguing, Kankuro flicked a chakra string. A moment later, and the man's jacket fell off. The tongue in Kankuro's mouth became dry as a bone when he saw not one, not two, but dozens of exploding tags taped onto the thief's body, all over his chest and arms. Apparently, his last request had simply been another trick, sacrificing his own life to take Kankuro's.

"Christ…" he said barely, eyes trying to count the number of tags he'd almost set off. The blast would have been terrible, toasting any living thing within 50 feet of the center; if Hyun-su had been a second too late, she would have been caught as well. Gnashing his teeth, Kankuro combated his own pride, forcing himself to acknowledge that Hyun-su's interference had saved him. "God…Christ, you came back here, your hand…we need to get you back!"

Hyun-su's head was buzzing, and her left hand throbbed horribly, and she felt her two fingers in her pocket. The heart in her breast was beating so fast that she was afraid Kankuro hear it as well. When the air in her lungs began to wane, she admitted, "Kankuro, I don't feel very good…I don't feel…"

"Let's head back, Tsunade can help you…I know she can," concerned for the kunoichi, Kankuro knit a few chakra strings around the stubs on her hand. Delicately, trying not to scare her, he slowly pulled them tighter, cutting off the flow of blood much like a surgical tourniquet would. Baki would have been proud of his quick thinking, but he couldn't pat himself on the back just yet.

Hyun-su arrived at his side, her face pale and sweaty. She almost seemed to be trapped in a drug-induced haze, aimlessly gazing around as if someone were talking to her from several different angles. She didn't even react when Kankuro placed one of her arms over and around his shoulders, supporting her.

Thankfully, it hadn't taken long to reach the thieves hideout; if they traveled in a straight path, they'd reach Konoha in around 20 minutes or so. Bearing most of Hyun-su's weight, Kankuro started the journey back. Wheezing, his lungs still aching for clean air, the puppet-master made a silent vow that if he survived a meeting with the Hokage with both his balls intact, he would drop his smoking habit for good. Lately, his life had been in enough danger; he didn't need _any _help ending it prematurely.

((A/N: This chapter was such a pleasure to write, even though at times I hadn't the foggiest what to type. I just wanted to thank anyone who's taken the time to write a review; they really do help me in many ways! Also, to anyone who's interested, I've uploaded several pictures of Hyun-su and Kankuro in my profile))


	16. The Trick is to Keep Breathing

Disclaimer: Don't go asking me for cash for owning the Naruto characters, 'cause they belong to Masashi Kishimoto

Disclaimer: Don't go asking me for cash for owning the Naruto characters, 'cause they belong to Masashi Kishimoto. Hyun-su, however, is mine, but still…don't go asking me for cash.

Also, as the Naruto series is still in progress, this fanfiction takes place in a slight AU. Any discrepancies between this story and the real manga will be fixed as they are discovered.

**Altered Carbon** - chapter sixteen

Bathroom floor.

Cold tiles.

That ache in his gut, something like hunger, or pain, a squeeze on the whole inside, not just in his mind.

Bad.

No natural light, only the two-tube fluorescent fixture running the entire length of the ceiling.

Twelve hours now, winding up tighter and tighter.

Hunger. Need. Hunger. Need.

"God…how long…" he rasped out, his stomach flat on the unfeeling ground.

He clenched his hands, fingers wishing so badly to wrap around just one last tube of sweet nicotine. Sweat drenched his face and chest and armpits; he shivered from the chilling wetness running off his skin.

He hadn't showered in two days; everything felt filthy and horrible, from the grime under his fingernails to the thick grease in his hair. His eyeballs even felt foul, burning and tearing-up as though they were on fire.

Naked except for a pair of boxer-briefs, Kankuro couldn't accept the fact that it had only been four days since he'd trashed his final carton of smokes. It _had_ to have been a week, at least. The cravings were stripping him of his sanity, disorienting him. He'd refused any kind of human contact, living off what food was left in the kitchen, barely drinking enough water. The last person who'd ignored the "Do Not Disturb" sign had been faced with a chair flying straight at them. After that, no one had dared to call him on the hotel phone, much less knock on the door, fearing him in the same way many feared a woman while in her "special time" of the month…like the plague.

Shoving three of his fingers into his mouth, Kankuro gnawed fanatically at his nails, wearing them down until tiny rivulets of blood spilled off the cuticles. He needed something, anything to occupy his mind and body, a way to burn up the agitation and nervousness that was fueling his cravings.

He trembled again and swallowed hard, pushing skin and saliva and blood down his throat and into his stomach. The taste was vile, but it momentarily misplaced the hunger.

At that moment, when all he wanted was solitude, the Hokage's disappointed voice whispered to him from the recent past.

"I can't say I'm completely dissatisfied with these results…you failed in bringing a criminal to justice, but at least we don't need to worry about their threat any longer."

"I'm not fucking perfect," Kankuro spoke harshly in the empty room, reenacting the debriefing to an invisible Tsunade. The big difference was that _now_ he was truly making his thoughts known instead of maintaining a respectable silence.

"Don't think I haven't noticed the increased affections between you and Hyun-su…I have trustworthy sources in the field, so you might say I was evaluating how you both would handle a high-risk, life-or-death situation."

"Why did you do that, you pompous ass?"

"It was wise of you to put your emotions for the girl below the priorities of the mission…I can't call you cold-hearted, but leaving Hyun-su to engage the primary target was a very compassionless thing for you to do. I'm very impressed."

"Thanks. Anything else to say, or can I freaking leave?"

"_We won't be able to attach her fingers. Unfortunately, the damage on the nerve endings was too dense; the cuts were too jagged and even then, the muscles were already dead before she'd returned to Konoha. Though it was smart of her to forgo her own health in order to rescue you, Kankuro, you must realize that this is the second time in which you have unsuccessfully kept Hyun-su safe. We…can't risk this happening again…"_

"We were on a goddamn mission…she knows the danger inherent in that…drop this subject…" Kankuro muttered desolately, recalling the dreadful sight of Hyun-su's bloodied hand, the way she'd frantically laughed at her own injuries.

"I understand that I am to blame for this–"

"Fucking right it's your fault," the puppeteer interrupted the voice in his mind.

"– and I will not be sending her out again, no matter how dire the circumstances might be. Also, you might already be aware of this, but there is no law that can prevent me from forbidding you to continue your affair with Hyun-su. She may by your brother's key witness, but before that, she is a human being and I'm not so ruthless as to deny a young man his heart's desire."

"It was one night…" clawing at the icy ceramic floor, leaving red fingerprints wherever he touched, Kankuro's voice became markedly strained. "It was just one fucking night…"

"You will be allowed to visit her only at night. We cannot disregard what the gang leader told you before his death, that there may be forces trying to raid Konoha when it is vulnerable…"

"One fucking…"

"And I must implore you to keep your trysts secret. The last thing I need is a high-scale drama fouling up my palace."

"…night…"

He'd had enough. Bending into a ball of exhausted muscle and tired bones, Kankuro's memory collapsed.

The Hokage's response had shaken him; Kankuro had not prepared himself for such generosity. However, his brother was picking up her slack; Gaara had been furious at him at first, stating that he was mixing business with pleasure, abusing his privileges as Hyun-su's bodyguard. Temari had been equally disgusted, calling him a pervert amongst other names. Things had turned even worse when he'd stupidly decided to mention how her rapport with the shadow-wielder had interfered with her job on multiple occasions. It had not been one of Kankuro's finer moments; he swore the bruise on his shin was going to smart for days to come. She'd since then left the Leaf village, as if his very presence unnerved her.

He'd not heard from either of them, not through letter or Tsunade; he wasn't sure he exactly wanted to. No one was on his side…at least not his family or allies from the Leaf village. The only person who might appreciate his actions was the one person he couldn't seem to protect, and that above all caused him to feel virtually worthless.

The harder he tried to ignore his feelings for Hyun-su – whatever they were, whether it was meaningless lust or a genuine fondness – the greater the soreness in his heart became. Since they'd returned to Konoha, Kankuro had locked him away from her, trying to extinguish their relationship with forced separation. Her surgery had made this an easy thing at first; she was still recuperating in the village's hospital. Not even Shizune's coaxing was successful in coercing him to go and visit her.

Sooner or later, his decision to share more than just his mind with Hyun-su was going to catch up to him. If that wasn't enough to contend with, Kankuro also had to deal with his uphill battle with addiction.

As if on cue, a spasm of pain exploded within the walls of his stomach. He winced, willing the discomfort away.

"It was never this hard…before…" he groaned. The lights above, with their glaring intensity, were only adding to his headache. He rolled onto his side and clawed for the edge of the sink, his watery eyes making it impossible to actually see it. Finding it with his chewed fingers, the fatigued shinobi pulled himself to the counter, nearly smacking his head in the process.

Hugging the wall, Kankuro ambled out of the bathroom. His legs threatened to give out, so used to lying prone on the ground for hours on end, and his entire body screamed for sustenance; a diet consisting primarily of bread and fruit was failing in keeping him awake. If he wanted to function properly, he was going to have to leave the hotel room in search for heartier meals. But he was deathly afraid that his cravings would instead lead him to the closest bar; his previous attempts at quitting had proven disastrous because of his tendency to engorge himself; he was determined to not end things in the same disappointing fashion.

He guided himself carefully into the bedroom. When his eyes spotted the unmade bed, Kankuro unexpectedly felt quite alone without Hyun-su. It was a strange thing…as a youth he'd undergone extensive emotional training from Baki in order to smother these sensations of loss and devotion, all so that his mind would never be torn between his mission and a person. Being with Ten-Ten hadn't even shaken that foundation. However much he'd loved her, never had she been his top priority; that spot was dedicated to his village and even more so to his Kazekage, regardless of whether or not Gaara wanted his attention any longer.

But something had happened to him to change that, alter his perception of reality and of himself, of his role in life. In their time together, everything about her had been soft, her tense, awkward grace made tender by the dimness of the room, her eyes and hands and her lips, infinitely soft. He had kissed her again and again, and each kiss was nearer to the last one they'd shared. She seemed less a beast and more a human child, becoming for an instant a person that he could contain and master. Kankuro suddenly realized that he didn't quite want to suppress her inner ferocity so much as he desired to keep it all for himself.

"Who the hell are you kidding, Kankuro," he muttered, vanquished by his own weakness for the feral child's affections. His own sister might have called him a letch, but behind the groping and lustful fumbling was a more significant, albeit confusing sentiment, one that Hyun-su needed to understand before she was allowed to come to her own conclusion. "I gotta hurry…but first, I need a shower…The only thing that would want to be near me right now is probably that pig, Tonton!"

Kankuro shuddered at the idea of having Shizune's four-legged friend trying to have her way with him. As he mulled over what he was going to tell Hyun-su, a faint snorting noise floated to him from the living room.

"Shit…it can't be…" looking up from his messy pile of clothes, Kankuro's throat constricted when the snuffles became increasingly more apparent. Amid the sound of cloven hoofs was the soft patting of wooden sandals on carpet.

Shizune's voice was instantly recognizable. "Kankuro? Are you in here?"

Before he could cover himself, the brown-haired woman popped her head into the room; he'd never seen her face darken to such a crimson flush, nor seen her jaw drop so low.

"Shizune! Why the hell are you here?" Kankuro quickly brought his hands up defensively, trying to hide his chest and stomach from the woman's prying eyes. "Don't you know how to knock? Stop looking at me like that!"

"The hotel staff phoned us, saying that you hadn't come out for days…we were worried about you!" Shizune said quickly, averting her gaze from the flustered shinobi. She certainly hoped word of this didn't leak out of the building; the entire Hokage's palace would be burning with gossip if they heard she'd been with the sand-boy alone when he was barely dressed. "They said you were acting violent to the staff, that you weren't eating or sleeping!"

"Well, how does that concern you?" he asked, backing into one of the windows so that he could wrap himself behind a curtain.

"I am a medical-nin on top of being the Hokage's attendant! If you are suffering from any kind of illness, it's my business to know!" she said stubbornly, conquering her embarrassment now that Kankuro's strapping chest was out of sight. Raising a single finger shrewdly, the bright-eyed woman continued. "Is there anything that I can help you with? Tsunade sent me here to personally help you!"

"Unless you can magically rewrite part of my life so that I never started smoking, then no, you can't help me!" Kankuro replied angrily, refusing to budge so long as Shizune was in the room to peek. He gripped the curtain tight like a shield.

"You're experiencing withdrawal symptoms, aren't you? Not uncommon…the irritableness, the nasty-temper, red eyes…and the hunger-pangs," Shizune deduced quickly, holding her chin with her one hand as she saw how the shinobi had successfully torn away the soft skin around his nails. Now completely in "help-mode", the persistent assistant invaded Kankuro's private space, wrenching him out of the curtains as he yelped in resistance. "Oh, quit being such a baby! I'm just taking you to the hospital to get you something to assuage the cravings!"

"Yeah, but at least let me get dressed! I'm almost naked here!" Kankuro whined in a state of semi-disbelief.

"Oh, if you must!" Shizune huffed, failing to grasp Kankuro's logic. Dropping his hand, the willful kunoichi idly tapped her nose; the scent from Kankuro's dirty skin made her nostrils shrink. "Pew! While you're at it, why don't you wash up! You smell like a pigsty…no offense, sweetie," turning to scoop up her pet-companion, Shizune gave the animal's bristled snout a light kiss. She oinked in response, forgiving her master's faux pas.

"If you'd just waited patiently outside like a normal person, that wouldn't be a problem, Shizune!" Kankuro said, his annoyance still burning bright. What an insufferable woman!

"Oh wah! Go scrub yourself up and meet me in the hotel lobby," Shizune said. Turning with a swoosh of her medium-length hair, the medic-nin and her posh-pig exited the bedroom.

Kankuro sighed, clearly exasperated. How Shiranui Genma tolerated a person like that was beyond him; she struck him as being a nagging, nitpicky sort of girlfriend, the kind that would never let a man be. With an odd smile tugging at his lips, he wondered if he could stand Hyun-su becoming like that, or if he too could learn to adapt. He couldn't visualize a tone-downed version of himself, coming home to a warm-cooked meal and an early-bedtime, much less Hyun-su acting as his housewife, but the idea was still humorous enough.

* * *

Despite the fact that he was a shinobi, Kankuro couldn't single-handedly count times he'd been to the infirmary, but perhaps that was because he'd simply lost count. His experiences with them were never positive, as he'd mainly been admitted while in near-death condition. Besides that, he hated the smell of hospitals, that sterile, medicinal odor that clung to you long after you'd left like a second shadow. If that wasn't bad enough, there were always screaming babies and kids there…and Kankuro hated kids.

Sidestepping out of the way of two little boys playing tag, Kankuro nullified the devious urge to drop kick both of them across the room as he followed Shizune. Snarling as another snot-nosed brat came dangerously close to his foot, the shinobi hoped that wherever Shizune was taking him, it would be as far away from these monsters as humanly possible. It was hard to look menacing without his black uniform and creepy face-paint, but Kankuro's intense glare was still effective in stifling a young girl from clamping onto his leg as if he were a piece of playground equipment.

"Shizune, where are you taking me, and just how long is it gonna take to get there?" he asked impatiently, ignoring the scathing grimace the girl's mother was currently lobbing at him.

"I swear, for a tough sand shinobi, you sure do whine a lot…you need to learn something from your brother and sister," turning down another nameless corridor, so far the seventh, Shizune stopped in front of a rather average looking door. Hanging near the top was a sign that simply read, "Office". Without a key, she entered the room. "Come on inside…"

"Don't have to ask me twice," Kankuro followed her inside, stooping down to avoid the low hanging doorframe. Strangely, it had been built shorter than the rest. While it was labeled as an office, he thought it resembled a storage room in that there were boxes of all shapes and sizes scattered around. "What's in here, anyway?"

"Just some random supplies…I need to get staff down here to organize it," digging through a small stack of containers, Shizune gave a lighthearted "ah-ha!" when she found what she was looking for. "Over here, Kankuro."

The erudite kunoichi laid on the floor a small square of paper and some vials with rubber stoppers. Unplugging one of them, Shizune proceeded to squeeze a few drops of bluish liquid onto the parchment; the liquid quickly disappeared into the white fibers. Arranging her hands to form the sign of the rabbit, she uttered a series of commands under her breath, focusing the energy in her body to obey her. Honing it, harnessing it, Shizune channeled the stream of chakra through her arms, down into her hands, and finally pushed it out into the air, directing it onto the treated paper. As it combined with the absorbed liquid, a small insignia appeared in red ink.

"Ready!" Shizune chimed as she finished her concoction. She peeled the length of paper off from the floor and presented it to Kankuro. "It's a special patch that acts on psycho-active tinctures…as long as it's attached to your skin, the tag will feed your body a drug that will trick your mind into thinking it's getting enough nicotine. As time goes by, we can lessen the amount of the active ingredients, slowly weaning you."

"You make it sound like I'm being switched from a bottle to a sippy-cup," Kankuro commented skeptically, not at all convinced that a little scrap of paper was going to assuage his suffering. However, it was all he had, and it was a much better alternative to drowning out his cravings with booze. Untucking his fresh hakamashita, he pointing at a spot near the small of his back. "Is it okay to put it here?"

"Yeah, it will work there…just make sure to come get me after a few days so that I can administer a new one. Sakura can also assist you as well; she's received most all of the training I've had," Shizune instructed, applying a thin layer of adhesive to the medicinal tag. "I'll let you do the honors."

The liquid glue was alarmingly warm as Kankuro smoothed the strip onto his skin. Almost instantaneously, the gnawing feeling evaporated…his heart slowed down from its agitated tempo a moment later. He could feel the entire patch heating up, distributing its contents throughout his body like a hot drink.

"Feel's good, doesn't it?" Shizune asked, noticing how already the signs of stress were leaving him, the peachy color gradually returning to his face. It was amazing how quickly the compound activated upon contact. "We've just perfected the dosage levels…I have to admit to a certain level of pride, being that I discovered the remedy."

"You?" Kankuro said on a long exhalation, releasing four days worth of pent-up anxiety and hunger. "Yeah…this feels…awesome…"

Shizune waited for a moment as he gathered himself, allowed him to soak in the satisfaction of finally being able to breath and live without those blasted cravings.

"So, I just need to come to you and you'll get me a new one," he recounted, the murk in his brain lifting away, leaving him with a fresh sense of lucidity. His skin tingled as though he'd just been drenched in cold water, and the pain in his stomach was at last diminishing. "Thank you, Shizune…I don't know what I can do to repay you…"

"Just treat her well…" the medic-nin answered cryptically, her thin pink lips smirking devilishly. "She feels much for you, and you'd be a dolt to ignore that."

Kankuro hesitated. Though he knew precisely what the kunoichi was eluding towards, the puppeteer didn't feel ready to conquer his fears just yet, didn't know if he had it in him to show his sorry hide around Hyun-su; the guilt that failure wrought was still too strong.

Cracking his fingers distractingly, Kankuro broke his eye contact with Shizune; her stares were growing a little annoying.

The brown-haired attendant searched his face, looking for some proof of his innermost feelings. She'd seen this before in her own boyfriend, who'd taken more than just a simple prod to confess his affections to her; who could have guessed the normally overconfident sand shinobi would be cut from the same mold. There was nothing but a firm coldness in his eyes; some mountains just weren't made to budge, apparently. "And with that, I bid you adieu," Shizune gave a sarcastic bow and left, fully aware of the reason behind Kankuro's sealed lips.

Not sure if he should be more angry or ashamed at his own immature bashfulness, Kankuro shook his head apprehensively, trying to ignore Shizune's cutting remarks. Treat her well? How do I know she even wants to see my ugly mug! he thought hesitantly, not quite seeing the point in resuming any kind of relation with Hyun-su. The simple fact was that on three occasions now, she's been seriously, once even mortally wounded. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but that didn't stop Kankuro from feeling like a bit of a black cat, touting bad luck wherever he pounced. His sister would have probably made the same connection, what with his black-eared hat and sneering green eyes.

"What kind of shinobi…" yanking at the long, disheveled hairs on the back of his neck, Kankuro suddenly remembered her eyes peering up at him from beneath, her coy, post-coital smile. The vision of her slender body, her sharp nails dragging across his back, caused him to shudder.

She could put angels to shame, and he was stalling here with his fingers up his butt, afraid to show his face again. Cupping his mouth and nose with both hands, Kankuro spoke in a breathy voice, "God…I am such an asshole…"

One, two fingers quietly appeared around the doorframe. Kankuro was so lost in his thoughts, a weary undertow gripping him, that he never could have noticed the young girl just outside until she spoke softly to him.

"Yeah you are, but at least you admit to it."

((A/N: Goodness, I apologize for the months of delay between chapters. But I'm finally almost done school, so expect more chapters sooner! Please R&R if you have a moment! Also, thank you to anyone who has been giving me constant support!))


	17. Betrayal

Disclaimer: Don't go asking me for cash for owning the Naruto characters, 'cause they belong to Masashi Kishimoto. Hyun-su, however, is mine, but still…don't go asking me for cash.

Also, as the Naruto series is still in progress, this fanfiction takes place in a slight AU. Any discrepancies between this story and the real manga will be fixed as they are discovered.

**Altered Carbon** - chapter 17

"T-Tenten?"

Not even a splash of ice-cold water or a deadly kick to the groin could have forced the stupefied look off of Kankuro's face. He jerked his head around so fast, he might have induced whiplash.

It had been months since he'd seen her with her hair down, slightly curly and damp as it framed her cheeks. Instantly, he mentally compared her face to Hyun-su's, much against his own will. Hers was slightly more slender, and although Kankuro would never call them unsightly, Tenten's knife thin lips would never hold a proverbial candle to the bee-stung lips Hyun-su wielded so very well. Beyond that, it really was useless to try and measure the two, vastly different girls up…with the exception that both were rather stubborn and not too shabby in battle (though Kankuro felt the ex-Rock kunoichi might have a speed advantage over the little leaf), they were quite like night and day, in the most extreme way possible. While the more reserved Tenten was very obedient to her masters and duties, following them to a T, always a perfectionist, Hyun-su was rabid and free-spirited, never sticking to a plan unless her life was on the line. It was a miracle, Kankuro thought frankly, that she had even listened to his commands as well as she had during the thief-raid, though perhaps in the end that hadn't been such a good thing…his distracting her during an extreme battle had cost her two of her fingers and possibly more if she hadn't come to save his sorry skin.

Slowly, cautiously, Kankuro decided his options at this point: try and run away with his tail in between his legs, or stand his ground and see why his bitter, sharp-tongued ex had tracked him down inside the hospital.

She eyed him in that familiar, demure way that he'd at one time fawned over; there was hesitation there, and something else.

"Can I help you?" he asked, courteous but careful at the same time as moved to leave the small, suddenly too-cramped room. Though the torturous sense of hunger had been relieved, it had too quickly been replaced with a new, more terrifying feeling of confrontation.

With one of her feet, the weapon's master scuffed the heel across the floor, as though trying to appear shy, much like the silver-eyed Hyuuga Hinata might. But Kankuro wasn't stupid, nor was he so easily fooled by this brave show of reservation.

Her olive eyes blinked slowly, as if offended by the sand shinobi's wariness. "What? Am I not allowed to breath the same air as you now?" she pointed at herself in the chest, and Kankuro could not help but find himself glaring at what lay beneath her fingertip. Tenten's lips curled slightly at the reaction. It was satisfying to know that she still had some pull on the cat-eyed shinobi.

Kankuro fumed slightly, disgusted by this sudden, unprovoked flirtatiousness. Though he was sorely tempted to turn his back on the brown-haired kunoichi, he knew it better to see things through…if he didn't finish this now, it only meant he'd have one more thing crowding his mind when he finally did see Hyun-su again. For that, he would need all of his wits intact and thriving.

"Like I said before, we should be civil about all this, shouldn't we?" Tenten exclaimed hotly, noting how her magnetism had worn off. Disappointed, she positioned herself directly in Kankuro's path, so that he would have to bowl her over in order to leave. If she was anything, it wasn't fearful…headstrong and tenacious were far better adjectives.

Kankuro could tell that there was no getting off the hook for him; he'd seen that determined look far too many times to ignore it. "Yeah, but I believe you were the one to suggest we end things," he answered in a controlled, albeit forced tone. They'd been through this once before, back in the Hokage's mansion…this time, however, Hyun-su wasn't around to sink her claws into Tenten's ego. He was on his own. "You made it painfully, no, agonizingly clear that you didn't want to be with me. What's with the sudden change of heart?"

It was Tenten's turn to be anxious. Her olive eyes scanned the dusty floor of the storage room, trained on anything but Kankuro's sandals, or Kankuro himself. After biting her lip, she spoke in a guilty voice. "Seeing you the other day, it made me realize how much…well, how much I like you, Kankuro," she confessed, now slowly bringing her gaze upwards. "I guess it made me angry to see you with someone else, with that crazy girl…"

"Hyun-su isn't crazy, and leave her out of this…you came to Tsunade's doorway even before you knew I was protecting her," Kankuro interjected cuttingly, careful not to seem too much on the offense. He didn't want to spark off an argument, not with Tenten's trigger-action temper.

"Right…right…" Tenten held back her original retort, grudgingly accepting truth over bitter hostility. Warily playing with a few strands of her still-wet hair, the weapons-mistress glided out of the doorway, moving into the hallway. Her vision shifted to a gentler demeanor. "Sorry…I just feel bad for the things I said."

"Well, no hard feelings. I'm not the kind of person to hold a grudge," Kankuro said, only partially lying. Sure, he'd been pissed for a while at being dumped, but in the chaos of the last weeks, his break-up with Tenten had fast become a distant memory. Giving the girl a curt, yet polite, nod, the sand shinobi sauntered past her. The patch on his back shifted as he moved, the soft liquid glue pliable enough to stretch, but still strong enough to hold onto his skin. Rubbing it once, Kankuro turned to face Tenten once he'd joined her in the hospital corridor. "I have some things…some things I need to get to. So, if you'll excuse me."

His grumpy indifference didn't surprise Tenten; she'd expected at least this much resentment, if not a full-blown tirade. She watched with a minor wash of sadness as he brushed her off for a second time this week.

"W-Wait!" her voice worked first, far before her mind could try to stop it. Blushing wildly, Tenten hoped that he hadn't heard her…it had been a gesture of desperation.

Kankuro laughed, one devoid of humor, as he stopped. Of all the girls he'd known, he'd never thought in a million years that Tenten of Konohagakure would be the one to try and grasp back on his heartstrings. It was the last thing he'd expected.

She instantly regretted the impulsive action. Feeling seven kinds of "stupid", Tenten braced herself as the tall, imposing shinobi slowly circled around.

"What, Tenten? What do you want with me? You dump me to be with Neji, you come and pick fights with me, and now you're acting like you've just realized what a mistake it all was. Make up your damn mind!" Kankuro hissed out, louder and more ferocious than he'd wanted to. Not quite sure where the rant had come from, or why it had surfaced all at once, the young man pressed into his forehead with the heel of one of his hands. Massaging the ache out of his brow, he spoke again, this time notably softer. "Tenten…why are you here?"

"Because…" Tenten started shakily, and Kankuro could see the same confusion in her eyes that must have also been in his. Perking her resolve, the normally vivacious kunoichi pulled her shoulders back strongly. "Kankuro, I don't know…let me take you out for a drink or something…It just doesn't feel right, ending things like we did."

He let his frown deepen, feigning thoughtfulness as he struggled to come up with an excuse to get away. "A drink?" he asked, his voice overflowing with doubt. "It was four months ago when you said, and I quote 'Kankuro, it just isn't going the way I want it to…' Now you want to end things right?"

The kunoichi swayed side-to-side awkwardly. She digesting Kankuro's logic with a relatively cool-mind as he waited for a response. Whatever she had to say next, it better be damn good, or he'd be out of here faster than a certain Hokage escaping the debt collectors. He gave her another moment, but didn't think he could afford another one. Every second he stood here waiting for Tenten to pull her head out was a second he could be using to speak directly to Hyun-su.

"I know, you're probably thinking this is just some…evil plot or something like that…but I genuinely want to treat you…" she repeated her offer, this time with a little more vigor.

She certainly sounded sincere enough, despite the fact that Kankuro's mind was still on high alert. He knew better than to trust anyone, especially an ex, and even further, especially an ex who was also a kunoichi. It wouldn't be too insane to predict that the number of weapons currently on Tenten's person exceeded more than ten or fifteen. He wouldn't put it past her to stab him through the heart again, though this time in a more literal way.

And yet, something in the way she was looking at him now, those familiar olive eyes peering at him with a sort of pleading in them. They were class-A puppy-eyes, but thankfully Kankuro was more of a cat person himself.

Kankuro's voice was detached. "No, not right this second…" shaking his head slightly, the brown-haired shinobi realized that Tenten's small lips were now being pulled into a frown. His expression, on the other hand, was hard to read. Pushing away at the air in front of him, he started to back away, now wishing that Tenten were actually angry with him; her sad, dejected eyes were getting to him in ways he didn't want. "We'll catch up later, right now, there something I have to do."

Pressing her lips together firmly, Tenten was all too aware of what that something was, or rather, who. It burned deeply in her, knowing that Kankuro would rather search out a half-feral girl than knock back a few with her. More a wound of the soul than it was of the flesh, deep and festering, the weapon-mistress' heart thudded painfully beneath her ribs, distress coursing through her system at lightning speed. She could only berate his decision silently as Kankuro disappeared down one of the white, sterile hallways of the medical building.

* * *

Finding Hyun-su hadn't been a difficult thing. Many in the hospital were aware of their newest patient, the girl missing a couple of her fingers, brought in by a mysterious black-clad shinobi. What Kankuro found humorous was that they no longer recognized him, not without that same ominous attire.

With a wry smile, he almost walked through the hospital with a nonchalant swagger, testing the staff's skills of perception, seeing if there was a single doctor or nurse who might pick out his facial features or height. Sadly, unpainted and rid of his eared-hat, there wasn't a soul in the ward who stopped him to ask if he was indeed the "man dressed in black": Holding back a scathing chuckle, Kankuro thanked the gods that at least these people were only responsible for healing shinobi, not being shinobi. Medic-nin, he concluded, they weren't.

Now just a knock away from rejoining Hyun-su, Kankuro's enthusiasm shriveled as a knot of dread in his stomach tightened like a screw. Pulling on his hair, as he often did when nervous, the sand-shinobi tried to predict what the girl might do. On one hand, she might be delighted in seeing him, thankful for having brought her to safety, and willing to maintain their strange, if not downright unconventional relationship. However, on the flip side, it wasn't too outrageous to see her booting him out of the room, pissed over losing her precious fingers, angry with him for diverting her attention away from her opponent. Both were just as likely, and as he gripped the cold, steely metal of the door handle, Kankuro hoped the fates were favoring him today.

What he saw past the door cut through the haze in his mind like a meat cleaver…he no longer cared about what she'd say or do to him. His hands turned clammy with sweat when he saw Hyun-su, asleep on her medical bed, so pale that the blue veins were visible through the skin. An IV was inserted into her hand, the one with five fingers. The other was out of sight, wrapped up in a large bundle of gauze and medical tape. Kankuro could only imagine the grisly stitches they'd put on her, and his stomach lurched at the thought of seeing those horrible looking stumps where her delicate fingers had once been, the skin around them discolored and warped by trauma.

"It was all my fault…" Kankuro whispered, so soft and gently that it barely made its way around the room and back, which was outfitted with a myriad of medical equipment. "You must have lost so much blood…you passed out on the way here, didn't you?"

Kankuro pushed a thousand desolate thoughts away, the back of his throat locking…he took deep breaths, trying desperately not to get shaken up. She was so peaceful looking, and yet so incredibly sad at the same time, a recurrent victim, while he always managed to pull through with barely scratches. Ashy hair spread across the white pillow, not a strand of it covered her blanched, sickly face; he wondered if the color had even drained from her ruby eyes, leaving them a pale salmon pink, a gross albino shade.

He paused before stepping closer, a single trembling hand lingering towards her wane face. One of his tough fingertips tapped her cheek, and he was amazed at how cold the surface was; his eyes widened, and for a moment, it was all he could do to huddle against the clean floor and not throw up. Wrenching his hand away, Kankuro remembered, and simultaneously fought to forget, her lying beneath him, caressing him, holding him, giving him everything that she had in her, putting her trust in him. The vision seemed to have replaced that lifelong memory of the sands surrounding his home village, and it was a vehement struggle to decide which he preferred.

She was so many people in one, he knew it for sure, and that was what made her sparkle even more. Kankuro had realized it before, but now the truth seemed that much more poignant and affecting. With an embittered scowl, the sand-shinobi begin to recall their first meeting, which ironically had taken place in the same forest he'd met Tenten. How could he ever abolish that ravishing sight, Hyun-su streaming from tree to tree, her entire body a hurricane of motion, testing his own abilities to their furthest point? Those strange red eyes with their crimson allure, taunting and tantalizing him, setting him on edge while also enchanting his deepest desires. She was truly a wicked, horrible girl, but that night they'd both undergone a transformation, a metamorphosis. A woman like Hyun-su only existed once every generation, of this Kankuro was certain. What he didn't know, what he wished he knew, was if he was the person to be with her…if he would be the man to make her human.

"I can never keep you safe…Hyun-su…I always fail you…" biting back at his memories of Gaara, of Tsuneo, and now of the ex-rock kunoichi three-times wounded, Kankuro's eyes became misty. "Not in battle, not from me…not from anything…"

His lungs ached for air, and Kankuro suddenly realized that he'd been holding his breath. Gasping, lips quaking, the young man could sense his tears wobbling on his lower eyelid; he willed them to recede, determined not to cry again.

Backing away from the bed, his head sunk low, the shinobi quietly unlatched the door and left.

* * *

The porcelain cup clinked onto the bar, the last vestiges of its contents sloshing around in it. Like picture-perfect clockwork, the man behind the vast wooden partition leaned over, a large white pitcher held in his hands. Tipping the vessel over, Kankuro's sake cup was soon filled again for the fourth time that evening.

It hadn't been in his original plans to wind up here, in a clustered, tight bar, sipping away his misery one cup at a time. Kankuro couldn't even recall how he'd got here in the first place, just knew that he was now, sending his ryo to the bartender as more and more alcohol filtered into his bloodstream. Even with a tobacco cessation patch in place and working it's hardest, the sand shinobi had to fight hard to not want a cigarette in between his fingers. The two activities seemed inextricably linked, drinking and smoking, and without one, the other seemed incomplete, if only because of habit.

Looking down, Kankuro realized with a vague feeling of stupor that his cup was already empty; he'd drunk it without even knowing. His skin crawled as he looked around to see the other customers, all drunk or well on their way, and he felt phenomenally disgusted in himself for joining their ranks. Shaking his weary head, the shinobi tipped his cup towards the barkeep, unwilling to stop, not ready to leave unless he was entirely blitzed. He wanted to forget everything, everyone, if for just a little while.

"It just…just doesn't…doesn't feel right…" he mumbled to the cup in his hands, now freshly filled. Moving it towards his lips, Kankuro swallowed the entire pool of sake greedily; a strong undertow of exhaustion pulling at his bones and muscles. With his sixth cup downed, he could sense his inhibitions dissolving readily, the tongue in his mouth becoming lazy, unable to speak clearly. It was a strange, unusual feeling…he hadn't gotten truly wasted in such a long time, especially since it took so much to get him there. Clearly, his current worries had weakened his normally steadfast tolerance. "Bar-hic!-keep…ano-hic!-ther…"

The barkeep, a middle-aged man with ordinary features, simply did his job, though he knew well enough that he'd have to cut the younger shinobi off at some point…he didn't need a dangerous looking man wandering around the village, committing drunken antics fueled by his alcohol.

By now, Kankuro's gaping hiccups were causing his normally composed hands to shake, and sake was spilling all over the table, dripping off the side to spill onto his lap. The fabric would stink of fermented rice in the morning. Sluggishly, Kankuro let his eyesight swoop down, finding the small puddle that had just nearly missed his crotch. He chuckled, slowly at first, and then becoming boisterous and rowdy, at the thought of a giant, fake pee-stain on his pants.

Slowly, though, his laughs faded back into a small, drunken giggle, and then nothing.

For a moment, his thoughts seemed to become clear, lucid even, as if the haze from his mind had drifted off. Blinking his green eyes, Kankuro glanced over a shoulder, at an old geezer tipping off of his stool, to another man falling asleep with his cup still in hand.

He wondered just as his mind became fuzzy once more, about what his family would think of him now, what Gaara would say to him, what harsh words Temari would scream into his face, probably yelling at him with a hideous scowl and scathing teal eyes.

And finally…what would she say? What would she think?

Kankuro scoffed again, this time with less gusto, feeling depraved and unenergetic, his body slipping into lethargy. Rubbing his face, he drew out some money, more than enough, and scattered it across the bar. The bartender watched as Kankuro stumbled off of his seat, doubtful that he'd make it clear out the door, not with that much sake in him. But amazingly, after a stumble or two, the tall young man managed the feat, only brushing against a few other tables and chairs on his way out.

The early evening sun barely lit his path, and with the added obstacle of being drunk, Kankuro wobbled along the stoned walkways of Konohagakure, legs feeling much too heavy to move, head seeming light and incoherent. Twitching his fingers, he noticed grimly that he was barely able to muster his chakra as limp, flaccid strings of blue-ish energy slithered from the tips.

"Shit…" was all he could manage to say as he retracted the worthless chakra strings. Bound by a simmering anger, Kankuro clenched his hands dully, barely able to sense the fibers in his body. He stared at his fists as if he'd never seen them before, struggling to come up with the anger to break through this alcohol-induced fog. But it wasn't enough, and the miasma remained.

A figure materialized ahead of him. Maybe twenty, maybe a hundred feet away; his depth perception was obliterated. Squinting tired eyes, Kankuro slowly tilted forward, nearly tripping. He steadied himself as the blob started to move closer to him, saving him the trouble of finding it. The nearer it came, the more it came into focus, soft edges sharpening into a more concentrated image, a head coming into vision, arms and legs and body following. When the person was only a short distance from him, Kankuro suddenly saw clear, intense olive eyes reaching out to him like a pair of hands.

"Kankuro, you're such a mess…" Tenten said as she met with him. Her feet moved warily, as if they knew the danger they were bringing her towards. Ignoring her fear, her nervousness, the kunoichi, who had since leaving the hospital tied her brown hair back into their trademark buns, helped Kankuro stand upright. It was a difficult task; he far outweighed her, another thing she'd come to forget; she'd become so accustomed to Neji's light-frame. "Are you…alright? Can you walk?"

Kankuro could only shake his head ruefully, finally recognizing that he'd obviously had too much to drink, that he'd been far too successful in his endeavor to escape reality. His head was beginning to pound now, and if he'd been in any better shape, he would have pushed Tenten away, tried to flee her as well. His limbs refused him such freedom, falling lifeless to his sides as the young girl held onto him tightly.

He immediately perceived her closeness, and it cut through his befuddled head like a razor through paper.

"Ten…" he said, unable to say her entire name. Tossing his head again, urging his mouth to cooperate, Kankuro stared down at the girl with glassy eyes. Deliberately, slowly, he tried again. "Tenten…ya…ya…donneedta…help me…"

It was hard to not feel like a moron, tumbling and tripping over his drunken self in public, the situation made even worse because his ex-girlfriend was present as well. He felt like the butt of some cosmic joke that just wasn't funny. Kankuro gruffly removed himself from Tenten's warm grasp, not meaning to appear rude or callous, but it must have come off that way, for the look in her eyes spoke volumes of her emotions. His hands were still ineffectively pawing at the air as he wearily stepped away from her.

"Why are you being so stubborn…why are you doing this to yourself?" Tenten asked firmly. Her brow was strained and knit, a mask of worry on her face as she tried to understand why the older shinobi was still trying to stumble away from her, why he was working so hard to keep himself from her. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Her words cut deep, deeper than any knife. Kankuro stopped in his tracks immediately, and became as still as a thoughts were jumbled and grasping, trying to find an explanation and yet unable to hold on to any coherent facts.

With the sun hanging in the sky by single wisp of cloud, Kankuro could still see Tenten's face, much in the same way Hyun-su had seen his a few days prior. The entirety of her features was caught by the red sunlight, made alive and vivid by it. There was care in her mixed expression, along with frustration and a fighting determination, alongside a bit of betrayal playing along the lines of her lips. Those lips…he couldn't stop staring at them, and Kankuro immediately felt a threat brewing in him.

"You…why doya…still care fer me…" his tongue still fought against him as he spoke stupidly, still locked onto those soft, pink, suddenly inviting lips of hers. Instantly, he remembered their first kiss, one they'd shared in the forests.

He began to move closer to her.

"Kankuro…I still care for you…because…" Tenten started, heart aching for closure. She needed this more than she needed air to breath. "Because I never gave you one last kiss…"

It was so true that Kankuro almost cried, thinking back to their last meeting, to those last sordid moments of their failed relationship. Kankuro felt a squeeze on one of his hands, pulling him back, and in an instant Tenten's eyes were on him. Their pull was pure magnetism, even when she closed them, lips pursing, closing in on him. He could smell the fragrance of her hair through his own alcohol-laced breath…metal-polish and steel, just like the last time.

He could do it, kiss her, salvage the last vestiges of their doused love for each other. His drunken haze made it so hard to resist, temptation goaded him like a sweet wine.

_Who is…Tenten? Is she one of your friends?_

Kankuro's head jerked away, causing the girl in front of him to gasp. For a second, he simply blinked his eyes wildly, trying to recall the owner of the voice in his head. But his head was aching terribly now, a thick, heavy pulsing just underneath his skin. His entire body was becoming one huge ball of soreness.

_Are you really going to protect me?_

Grasping his head with both hands, the sand shinobi wrestling with his pounding brain, pulling and yanking on his hair as the familiar words grew in intensity, becoming more frequent as he tried to piece together his fragmented memories.

_I don't trust you. I don't trust anyone…_

"Hey, are you still there?" Tenten tried to invade his swirling thoughts, even considered given him a light slap to knock his senses back into their orbit. His sudden reaction was alarming her.

_No one has ever looked out for me…_

Kankuro brought his eyes around, still as wet-looking and tired as before, and before he could utter a single word of apology to Tenten, he lurched backwards, feet suddenly regaining control as he sped back towards the hospital.

Tenten's eyes softened, realizing the sting of defeat. This battlefied was too great for her; her kunai and blades were of no use here.

"Kankuro, you asshole…" she said, her tone awash with betrayal as another person slowly, silently crept up behind her. White sleeves weaved themselves around her, and Tenten could do little as the shinobi behind her began to tug back on her. She felt soft cotton against her bare shoulders, and a chill escalated up her hunched spine, causing goosebumps to line her skin. "Neji…"

A pair of cold, yet inviting hands found her own, and the two shinobi felt into silence. There was nothing to be said, nothing that she had to feel sorry for…her experiment had failed, and it was time to move on.


	18. Monster

Disclaimer: OMG, I can't believe after two years I still have not secured the rights to Naruto and his smexy friends. Oh well, I guess Hyun-su will have to do..LOL.

Also, as the Naruto series is still in progress, this fanfiction takes place in a slight AU. Discrepancies between this story and the real manga will happen.

**Altered Carbon** - chapter 18

Hospitals.

She couldn't seem to escape these hell-holes.

Every time her eyes opened, she was met with the same thing, the same sterile walls, the same masked faces, the same twisting tenderness in her gut or her stomach. If she'd the strength to muster, Hyun-su would have groaned with irritation, but as it was, she barely had the energy to tilt her head sideways on the white linen pillow. Her bones ached, her hair felt stiff and sore down to the root, and even breathing came at a pain-ridden price. Flitting her tired red eyes unenthusiastically, the young woman thought she was alone, didn't think there were any doctors or nurses, but was instantly surprised to see a figure slumped against the recovery room's bare wall.

Their foot was propped up, seemingly uninterested in whatever discomfort Hyun-su was toiling in. With one hand, the uninvited guest was stroking their chin, the other resting on their hip. Still shrugging off her sleepiness, Hyun-su was uncertain whether they were a man or a woman, though the blurred rectangular outline suggested the former. Their clothing was plain and inconspicuous, consisting of little more than a short coat and cropped pants cut from brown fabric.

"Who…Who…." Her voice was lethargic and soft. She inwardly cursed herself for feeling so lifeless.

An audible snicker emerged from the person. "Let me help you, dear…you are wondering of course, who I am? Correct?"

Light, airy and derisive, the person's tone was ambiguously female, marked with a overconfident timbre. Hyun-su decided immediately that whoever she was, she didn't like her in the slightest.

"Well, that will have to remain a little secret for just a little longer, love," the woman remarked coyly, words curved around her marked accent. "But for now, this will have to do..."

Hyun-su's eyes widened to an icy glare, looking as if ready to call for help, but in return the woman's mouth twisted into a salacious grin.

"I have known you for a long time," she continued, pressing a single finger against her pursed red lips.

She spoke deliberately, and that worried Hyun-su, for she had no earthly recollection of the person. Urging her bleary vision to cooperate, the kunoichi barely made out a pair of thin, wire-frame glasses and striking aquamarine hair. Before she could mutter another word or question, the enigmatic interloper quietly turned on a heel and left the room soundlessly, no simple feet considering the five inch stilettos she was sporting. Following her anxiously with her eyes, Hyun-su's instincts warned her that the woman was deadlier than her flaky voice and strange appearance supposed.

"What secret?" Hyun-su said into the empty, hollow space of the hospital room, so quiet that she swore it formed an echo. "The fuck…"

It took the collected sum of her energy and confusion to left her head higher than a few inches. She stretched and strained in the silence to listen for the mysterious woman, but was met with no reward.

She was gone.

* * *

The cell phone clicked to life with a press of her thumb. Chimes and tones blipped out musically as she hammered the buttons quickly, now sprinting away from the hospital in Konoha. The stench of happiness in the town was putting her on edge; truth be told, it had taken all her falseness and trickery to put on such a convincing smile for the young betrayer.

"_Yes?"_

The voice sounded mechanical, dry, putting the woman on edge as she cleared her throat. A lump persisted, but there was no time to work it out. _He_ hated being kept from his plans.

"You were right. She is here. What should we do next?" she spoke crisply, shortly.

"_Nothing until the festival. For now, you need to make sure she does __**not**__ leave the village under any circumstances. Also, it would be paramount for that sand-nin to be kept here as well."_

"Of course, Master, I've already taken that into account," closing her eyes resolutely, almost as if she relished the orders being given to her, the woman closed the cell phone without a farewell. Her leader was not a man of words, but rather of obedience. He did not have the time or patience to waste of frivolous manners, least of all on his servants.

Cagily looking across the expanse of the street, she slipped the phone back into her waste-coat's inner pocket, making sure it was turned to vibrate. Communication was to be kept absolutely contained and secret; her carbon footprint was to remain miniscule. Pushing back her aquamarine bangs, the woman breathed in the early fall air, the cooling breeze lacing itself around the tanned skin of her arms, legs and face.

If it weren't for the people here, diseased by their happiness and trivial cares, she may have actually enjoyed coming to this town. But some things just couldn't be helped, and with a shrug, the woman marched with a playful gait towards one of the many stores in Konoha's market district.

"Such a pitiful thing," she mourned sarcastically, watching the blissful citizens marching to-and-fro, so ignorant of the magnificent work being done at this moment, of the catalyst set in place. "Too bad it all has to go to waste…"

* * *

Mulling over the perplexing encounter, Hyun-su had run through the conversation a hundred times, trying to remember what that blasted woman had said, but her memory was disjointed, fuzzy and barely-there. It had all happened too soon after waking from a sedative-induced coma.

"Dammit, who the hell was that?" she spat out, now propped up in her bed, lightly punching the mattress with both hands. She cringe, realizing that her one hand was pulsing heavily, strobes of dull pain coursing into and out of the wounded appendage. Just another reason to feel weak and vulnerable…

Though no where near to having repossessed her full strength, the ash-haired kunoichi was not about to let this mystery linger; she had recently buzzed for a nurse and was impatiently waiting for their arrival. In the meantime, trying with all her fortitude to not scream for a doctor, Hyun-su closed her sore eyelids, forcing her mind to work.

_That woman knew me…she knew me from long ago…_she mulled over the events, and the simple truth made her innards churn. _Iwagakure sent her…fuck it all…did any of that really happen?_

A foreboding, clammy and fearful, came into her heart as if, along with the visitor whose face was so strange yet somehow familiar, some new horrible menace had slipped into her life. It was the last thing she needed. No matter how much she wanted to dismiss the entire conversation as some sort of cosmic joke, the kunoichi simply could not remove that nagging sensation that something bigger was going on…

A nurse, cherry-cheeked and looking a bit rushed, came tearing into the room before Hyun-su could ruminate a second longer. The cap on her head was tilted, and she was fumbling with the clipboard in her hands.

"Y-yes? How c-can I help you, ma'am?" Eyes betraying her, for they refused to look at Hyun-su directly, the nurse busied herself with tidying the room, gathering up loose tissues and checking the levels in her IV drip bag.

Hyun-su sighed with annoyance. How long were these cowards going to keep pretending they cared for her well-being? It was obvious the only reason she was here was because of the Hokage's orders. Otherwise she would have been regarded like the wild-animal they must have seen her as, bushy-haired and devil-eyed.

"I need to leave," Hyun-su said blandly, knowing that the words must have sounded like a saving grace to the nurse. "I can't stay here any longer. I need to get back to the Hokage's mansion."

She could have sworn the nurse had crossed her chest. Baring her teeth to further her point, the feral-child pushed herself out of the bed, snapping free from the wires and needles that constricted her.

"B-but…you can't leave without being discharged! We need the doctor's final say and-"

"Nngh…" Hyun-su frowned from the mild sting, ignoring the half-hearted attempts the nurse was making to subdue her. "Its not up to debate…I'm gone."

Hyun-su moved before the nurse could babble another word, coming dangerously close to slam-tackling the idiotic medic as she charged towards the door. When a pair of white-gloved hands gripped her from behind, Hyun-su snarled, unable to fight back, her strength failing her when she needed it most, draining through her legs and toes. She was left winded.

"Let…let me go!" she cried adamantly, though there was no fight left in her. Eyes tearing past the door she'd almost breached, Hyun-su was flopped helplessly back into her bed, nearly crushing her injured hand beneath her body. Barking at the nurse, Hyun-su suddenly noticed that two others had appeared in the room in a matter of seconds. "You can't do this! _Fuck it all_, I have to get out of here!"

"Calm down, calm down!" a middle-sized doctor said, pressing down on her shoulders, restraining her with minimal effort. Using a pocket light, he beamed it directly into her eyes, noticed that they were quick to dilate and scoffed at the reckless kunoichi. _Young ones…_he thought with a shake of his head. Checking her pulse and other vitals quickly, the doctor scribbled a few notes and turned towards the other medics, whispering something Hyun-su couldn't hear. It wasn't until she coughed loudly that they returned their attention to their reluctant patient.

"Just let us finish some paperwork and then you'll be free to go…but you'll need to be escorted…" he answered with a confident nod, probably as grateful as Hyun-su herself that she would finally be leaving. He'd heard the graphic stories of how she'd lashed through the surgeon Moriguchi's face like a rabid tiger tore through the flesh of a baby animal. The grisly details of how his face had nearly been pulled apart from the inside-out were still tormenting him at night. In his mind, the longer Hyun-su remained in his hospital, the more likely he was going to have the same thing happen. Cowardly? Yes, but self-preservation was a virtue.

"Escorted? What kind of _shit_ is that?" she retorted with an obnoxious tone of voice. Her curled-lip emphasized her sour-mood.

The doctor put his both hands up defensively. "Sorry, Hokage's orders…"

"Okay, okay…ya done yet?" Hyun-su demanded, flashing him a red-hot gaze. She could feel the muscles in her legs yearning to work again, pick her up and out of this veritable prison.

If the golden-haired medic-nin wanted her tugged around Konoha like some celebrity, that was her problem. In Hyun-su's mind, it made her too noticeable, too much like a target being protected. It seemed like a troublesome burden to deal with, but then again, perhaps someone had noticed the earlier visit from the peculiar female and had alerted the Hokage. It was the only logical explanation. And if that was not the case, it didn't alter the fact that someone needed to personally inform Tsunade of the encounter.

"Yes, just finished, actually," grunting as Hyun-su used his shoulder as leverage, scared out of his wits that she would find some subtle way to hurt him, the doctor quickly assisted her up and out of the room, giving her a prescription for pain medication. None of the other nurses or physicians afforded her the simple luxury of a send-off.

_What shitty bed-side manners…_ Hyun-su scoffed mentally, noting how the few people that stole a cautionary glance at her did so with terror-filled eyes. Some of them pointed, some shook their head ruefully, as if to show dismay for even admitting such a wild human being. And still some of the more polite nurses managed a sort of quiet ignorance, averting their attention from the exiting kunoichi as she trudged out the sliding glass doors of the hospital.

The first thing, well, rather the second thing other then the fact that it was bitterly cold outside and Hyun-su felt rather naked in little more than a pair of pajamas, she noticed were the strings of lanterns. They were of all shapes, ovals, spheres, squares, some decorated with hand-painted designs, others not. They hung like oversized Christmas lights, not yet glowing even with the sun hovering low in the autumnal sky. Hyun-su pondered momentarily, wondering the purpose for the decorative luminaries, but was ripped from her thoughts by a voice yelling at her from afar. Saying nothing in particular, or at least nothing she could easily decipher, Hyun-su peered through the corners of her ruby eyes, prepared to bolt at a moment's calling.

"Sakura?" she said to herself, bewildered and elated all at once. At once she burst into whatever kind of run her body would allow, stumbling once, twice, on the rocks. Her arms immediately embraced the pink-haired medic-nin the moment the distance had been closed. "How could you let them put me there? Those idiots they-"

"They don't know what they're doing, I know!" Sakura said, out of breath but happy nonetheless to hear her friend's voice. They had met under unusual circumstances, but Sakura could truthfully say she'd missed Hyun-su's bizarre species of companionship.

The last week had been infuriating for Sakura, from the moment news of the forest-debacle had reached Tsunade's ears to the point in which Sakura herself had been the one to attempt and reattach Hyun-su severed fingers. Never before had she witnessed so much blood pouring from such a small wound, and the remembrance of it sent her head swimming with nausea. Sakura's faith in her abilities hadn't faltered because of the events, because even though the damage was deemed unrepairable, the ultimate outcome, Hyun-su retaining enough blood to not require a transfusion, had been a strong comfort.

The girl's blood type, Lu(a), caused by a single mutation of the 19th chromosome, was so rare that it had to be outsourced to lands far from Konoha. Any thoughts of doing a blood-transfusion on the few in the village who were of the same profile were ultimately dashed by the Hokage; she knew all too well the risks involved with Hyun-su's unique…_condition._

Sakura unwrapped her arms from the other girl, and with a keen eye noticed the way Hyun-su gingerly touched the suffering hand. It still hurt.

Fighting a fresh, bitter wave of pain, Hyun-su refused to show how much it bothered her, more now than when it was fresh. Even with the bandages, she could tell the whole hand was swollen. The throbbing discomfort was unrelenting, and when she thought back to when she'd lost her fingers, curled like two slugs on a blanket of bloodied grass, she felt sick, and that made her heart beat faster. Sitting down on a nearby stone bench, Hyun-su closed her eyes. Her entire soul rocked when the pain in her hand subsided briefly, allowing a different kind of ache entered her.

_Its not just her hand…_Sakura knew, but wasn't sure what to say. She's suffered similar blows, to her body and to something else. There were some wounds a hospital could fix, and others they couldn't. She nervously rustled her pink tresses, dug deep for something to say as she sat herself next to Hyun-su, touching her healthy hand. It was cold, colder than the stone where she was sitting.

Nothing.

Hyun-su opened her mouth twice, three times, and then managed to say:

"It's okay," displaying some latent form of telepathy, Hyun-su shot Sakura a sad sort of smile, too tired and fed-up to hide her feelings any longer. When her throat constricted, dry and barren of words, she grit her teeth, couldn't help the tears. She brushed them away without a word. "Maybe I just have bad luck…"

A laugh, not a happy one, but empty and forced, found its way out of Hyun-su's chest. She forced the tears to stop, feeling ridiculous, and turned her head and body away from Sakura, too ashamed of her own weakness to speak. She was a fighter, trained by the real-world to suffer and persist through anything. Few things, however, could have prepared her for the incurable pain of the heart.

"I…" not sure if she should say it, Sakura buckled down, braced herself. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled uncontrollably. "I haven't heard from Kankuro lately. Shizune told me he hasn't been feeling well."

Drawing her legs onto the bench, bent with knees aimed skywards, Hyun-su hid her face from view. The smallest of sobs escaped her clutches. Before Sakura could even try to console the confused kunoichi with a warm touch, Hyun-su tore up from her seat, spinning around violently.

If Sakura had had any doubts of Hyun-su's feelings or affection, they were put to rest the moment she opened her mouth.

"_I __**hate**__ him! He's nothing to me!_" Her face contorted with rage and fear and mourning and love. Her heart leapt with anguish and she found herself crying, with tears that seemed as heated as the blood boiling in her body, and which she had to brush away painfully. "_I could __**kill**__ him!_" If words could form weapons, Hyun-su would have created an armory deadly enough to pierce the heart of any shinobi nation.

There was no textbook-solution or scroll to help Sakura, no formula or genjutsu in the world to soothe Hyun-su's bristling rage, to make her see how much she didn't mean the disgusting things she shouted. Staked to the bench, flabbergasted by the monstrous display of impassioned loathing, the Konoha medic-nin pried herself loose only when she thought it safe to.

The bout of fury left Hyun-su weakened, and Sakura caught her in the nick of time, the girl's thin neck craning back over the curve of her arm. With her chakra-imbued strength, Sakura lifted her easily, and began the quick journey back to the Hokage's mansion.

* * *

"_Whaddayamean sheesh gone alreadeh_?"

Kankuro could have slapped the nurse silly if his drunken stupor had not held back his flattened palm. Instead it slammed forcefully onto the front desk of the hospital, fingers spread-eagled and sweaty. His voice was slurred to near incomprehension, so much that the white-clad medic arched both eyebrows in befuddlement, turning her head from side to side in search of assistance. Twitching her nose at the scent of alcohol flooding from the young man, the nurse was about to call for security when suddenly-

The golden-haired woman appeared out of pure silence, and though the nurse should have been used to the secretive shinobi antics, she still jumped in her rolling chair.

The smirk failed to hide her irritation. "Don't worry, I'll take care of him from here."

He didn't need to see Temari's frowning face to know it was hers. He also didn't need to see her face to know she was pissed as _hell_. Nails like barbwire dug into his shoulders, and she flung him off the desk, roughly pulling him away the petrified nurse who'd obviously had enough of sand-nin for one day.

Kankuro lazily spun in place to greet his embroiled older sister, ignoring – probably not by choice – the fact the she looked about ready to pummel him into a greasy intoxicated pulp. Arms open, he belched before saying loudly, "Ish goo to seeya ashwell, Temarly!"

"Oh. My. _God!_" Temari, having seen enough, punched the much larger, bulkier man. With a hideous crack, Kankuro's chin jolted to the side painfully, his neck bent so far and in such a wrong way. "You make me _sick_! I am ashamed to call you my brother you sick, twisted son-of-a-bitch!"

Brushing off the punch as if it had been a swat from a kitten, Kankuro actually snorted out a laugh, unable to feel what should have been crippling, intense pain. "Hey, hey! Don go shaying bad fings about Mom…you know betteh…shilly shistah…" With a lazy hand, Kankuro roughly patted his sister's stiff shoulders.

Eyes blazing, Temari was about to rack his skull again when she finally saw that it wasn't getting anything done. He wasn't in the state-of-mind to feel pain, much less guilt or remorse for that matter. Putting palm to her face in an effort to mollify her frustration, the fan-wielding kunoichi prodded the slothful brother in the backside, goading him up the street. She nearly gagged at how badly he reeked, not of cigarettes – thankfully – but of sake, which she knew fully well was her brother's second worse vice. Watching and guiding him with a half-hearted hand, Temari had to make sure he reached the hotel where she and Gaara were staying in one piece. Several times, not surprisingly given his current condition, the puppet-master nearly tripped on nothing but air, and his sister was sorely tempted to let him fall face first into the mud.

But she had made a promise to the Kazekage, to her brother, and picking Kankuro's hefty ass up off the ground was only to going to waste time, she had growled to herself as his sandaled feet wobbled up the dirt path again and again. Deep down, however, Temari was counting her blessings. That he had survived the trip to the hospital intact was amazing enough, that he was still partially cognizant was truly a miracle. Kankuro was no master of drunken fighting; any thief or goon would have found him an easy target when he was this blitzed.

She stopped in her tracks the instant she saw the hakama-clad shinobi double-over, hand clapped over his belly protectively. Before she could grab a bag, a trashcan, the entire contents of his gut expelled out into the road. Temari scrunched her face with utter disgust at the gurgling sound. "God, you really are a piece of work, Kankuro, you've really done it this time!" she said, revolted though she hated to admit she'd been there before. To her credit she'd always managed to be indoors when things started to go awry.

Patting his back as another deluge came up and out of his mouth, Temari didn't bother to make sure the spectacle remain unnoticed. As far as she was concerned, he had it coming, and anyway it was his own fault for drinking nearly undiluted sake in the first place. As the saying went, you sleep in the bed you make. In Kankuro's case, he just so happened to also be puking in it.

"God…uugh…" Kankuro groused, the hurricane in his stomach calming down long enough for him to sputter a few words. The pause was much too brief. Gasping in shock, he spewed again, embarrassment starting to set in. His face was flushed and dripping with sweat, tears gushing from his eyes from the sheer physical trauma of throwing up so much in such a short amount of time.

"You can pray to God on the big white telephone back at the hotel…though after Gaara gets done with you, you may prefer this," Temari remarked coldly, yet knowingly, as she pointed at the upchucked contents of Kankuro's innards, "over what you're about to be served."

Rolling his hazy green eyes, Kankuro could only imagine what Temari was referring to as he picked himself back up, sides quivering and feeling foul down to the marrow. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten so sick. Sure, he'd pounded them down after his break-up with Tenten – thinking of it nearly made him regurgitate again – but nothing like this. He hated to admit it, but his sister was entirely and inexplicably correct: there was something horrifyingly wrong with him.

He was a monster.

Several agonizing minutes later, and Kankuro was pulling himself the short staircase of the hotel, gripping at the railing with whatever vigor he had left in his bones. Temari stood watch from the top of the landing, smug with indifference. Most of it was for show, a ruse to make Kankuro regret his decisions, however difficult it was to see her sibling struggling so much.

"One more step, that's it," she risked some level of care to enter her voice, the sting fading from her gaze now that it seemed he was more or less coming around. Tomorrow he'd probably think a thousand summoning scrolls had pummeled him upside the head, but for now he could at least crawl up the stairs. "Wait a sec while I get the key…"

The nearby door creaked open before she could even begin her search, revealing an uncharacteristically exasperated Gaara. Like always, his hands were in their usual spots, across his chest, but the look of sheer unease he wore cut through the miasma in Kankuro's brain like a swathe of clarity.

This was not the kind of look he wanted to see from the Kazekage.

"Get in, and get yourself a towel," he commanded forcefully, displaying a sort of domineering spirit that made both his siblings shake in their sandals. "You have explaining to do."

Thunderstruck, Kankuro wobbled into the hotel room, barely avoiding his short, but intimidating brother. The world was still spinning like a tilt-o-whirl on steroids, the walls expanding and collapsing at a jagged, uncontrollable rate. Reaching to squeeze his head, trying in vain to force his way out of the alcohol-induced fog, Kankuro whined as the beginnings of a migraine started to pulsate in between his eyes.

Kankuro collapsed into the first piece of furniture within the room, a sofa that was just a bit too small for his hulking frame. Both his feet dangled off the back end, face flat into the cushions. Murmuring through the plush fabric, Kankuro said, "Can't this wait…I feel like shit…"

"And who's fucking fault it that! Right now, I'm really wishing that I had never suggested you come here…" Temari spat back, fan already open, wanting to knock over both the sofa and her incompetent brother.

Gaara shook his head disapprovingly at the pony-tailed kunoichi, understanding, sharing her motives, but at the same time knowing that right now their brother was suffering enough. They had not traveled day and night to Konoha to physically abuse Kankuro.

"As you know, neither myself nor Temari approve of your comings and goings with Mifune Hyun-su," Gaara started, ignoring the wince of pain Kankuro made when he heard the girl's name. "But you are an adult. There are bigger things at hand now. Things that require more attention than your supremely poor choice in consorts.

"Tsunade has received disturbing intel that just today, a suspicious figure was seen lingering around the hospital, dangerously close to the room Hyun-su was recuperating in."

Another groan from the otherwise inanimate figure on the couch. Gaara dismissed it and continued, voice straining to remain composed. Sometimes he wished it was still in his nature to sound completely statuesque. "Though their motives didn't register as malicious, anyone coming into contact with the girl, who isn't from Konoha or Suna, should be viewed and treated with caution."

Temari, with notably less sarcasm, picked up the conversation. "And since neither the ANBU nor any of the other Jonin can find them, it's pretty safe to say to say they're here for business, not pleasure."

Neither of the sand trio spoke, allowing the words to sink into Kakuro's inebriated senses. He was lying prone, not budging at all. A wave of anger rose in Temari; had he actually had the audacity to fall asleep? She took a looming step forwards, fist clenched.

"_Cut it out, Temari!_" Nearly shouting, Gaara stomped his foot onto the ground, expelling his shroud of calm as a nearby painting fell from its hook, clattering on the carpeted floor.

Temari's eyes fell towards her toes, mortified by her hotheadedness. It was so unlike Gaara to make her feel so small and immature. "I'm…I'm sorry…"

"That's better….now. Kankuro…we need to discuss our next move," Gaara retreated to the kitchen momentarily. When he reentered the living room, a cup of cold water was in each of his hands, the first of which he splashed onto Kankuro's immobile body.

"Christ!" shouted Kankuro as he scrambled off, or rather toppled off the sofa, body making a loud thud as it came into contact with the floor. Sputtering wildly, the puppet-master suddenly felt quite lucid and sober, and all at once, everything Temari and Gaara had said rushed into him like a typhoon. His head began to pound again, but this was a different kind of pain. It was deliberate and focused, not an all over haziness. "No…no…this isn't happening…sis…bro…"

He crumbled into a half-ball, so sunk with misery that he was more misery than creature. Temari had been right; compared to hearing this ominous truth, puking his brains out was far more favorable alternative.

Gaara casually offered his brother the other glass of water, which Kankuro accepted slowly. While he carefully sipped, the glass shaking in his hands, the Kazekage spoke, "The most troubling part is that someone recognizes Hyun-su, even in her altered state." Sighing, Gaara pinched the bridge of his nose, something he seemed to be doing more frequently these past few months. "That can only mean that they had some direct role in her transformation, perhaps a scientist or close advisor to the Tsuchikage or another high-up in Iwa. We were expecting some kind of attack on Konoha in the future, but it seems it might occur sooner than expected."

"What did this all mean for Hyun-su?" Kankuro wasn't sure if he wanted to know, but he asked the question anyway, finishing the first non-alcoholic drink he'd had in the past 24 hours.

It was Gaara's turn to look away with uncertainty. "We don't know. Tsunade and I both agree that there is no true safe place for her. The rock village has been sending scouts into the forest regularly.."

"And moving her to another village is out of the question," Temari concluded, now pacing the room. Her face had taken on an uncharacteristic pallor, teal eyes darting back and forth as she marched. "Since we can assume whoever paid Hyun-su a visit now has her a strict radar, it would be easy for the enemy to send a raiding party after anybody trying to transporting her to another location."

Kankuro choked back an expletive behind gnashing teeth. "So we stay here then."

Gaara nodded. "Yes, the two of us, along with Konoha's shinobi, are more than ample protection for Hyun-su. However, it is imperative that our support be painstakingly subtle. To go around crashing and banging would only alert the enemy that we are on to them. We will remain hidden."

"Bro, wait," Kankuro was finally picking up on his brother's plan, and it didn't please him in the slightest. In fact, it made him dizzy with resentment. "You're using her as bait, aren't you?"

Temari jumped into the fray, having expected this kind of retaliation. "Yes, but only in the lamest sense!" she clarified rapidly, catching the frantic look in Kankuro's feral eyes. "We need to lure the head honchos into Konoha…using Hyun-su as bait will ensure their cooperation. Remember, they want her alive…"

It wasn't good enough news for Kankuro, who could sense the blood quickening in his veins. Feeling another bout of regurgitation, brought on by his agitation, he took several long breaths. "This is the quite possibly the worst idea next to assigning me as her bodyguard. I've fucked up more times than I can count and now you want to bring the enemy straight to the front door?"

"About that…" Gaara's voice lowered to a faint whisper, as if Kankuro had spoken the literal truth and several armed shinobi were waiting just beyond the windows and doors of the room.

"If the enemy knows of Hyun-su's current appearance than they must also know of you and your…professional association with her. Having you next to her, at least at a close proximity decreases the chance of an exposed attack, and makes it more likely that they will try and kidnap her when in a less public location."

"No fuck…and I'm not a good bodyguard…" Kankuro cursed out loud, though he'd meant to keep the comment to himself. Warily eying his brother and sister, who both sent him mirroring glances, Kankuro looked into his now empty glass. "Listen…it's obvious I can't keep Hyun-su out of danger, obvious that I am in short, a monumental screw-up. You don't have to be so polite about it. In fact, its probably best for us all that I run like a little bitch back to Suna before I cause someone else to get hurt, or worse…"

His voice trailed away, leaving the rest for the other shinobi in the room to figure it out for themselves.

Coughing, Gaara tried to understand Kankuro's delicate situation, wanting to keep a person from harm, but feeling more like a curse than much else. It wasn't hard to sympathize; for years, since his birth, he'd been the living representation of a curse. It had only been in recent history that he'd regarded humans as being little more than moving meat-sacks, and now he would gladly give his life to protect those closest to him. Eyes softening, mouth held tense and closed, Gaara, however hard he tried, could not recreate within himself the sensation of worthlessness Kankuro was experiencing.

"I swear, I am so useless. I can't keep anyone safe, can I, sis?" Sarcastic as always, using humor as a way to defend himself, Kankuro shot Temari a wounded look, taking them back to that day this had all began, on the rooftops in Suna.

Gathering himself off the floor, Kankuro brushed his pants off, thanked Gaara for the glass of water, and made for the exit. Not turning around, Kankuro placed a limp hand on the handle. "I guess I'll hear from you guys later."

Like a ghost passing into the next realm, Kankuro wordlessly abandoned both his siblings. Hating himself, hating Gaara, hating Temari, suffering for and because of this damned mission. Door clicking behind him, the sullen young man hunkered down again in the hallway, mind racing with a million horrible thoughts, doing the cruelest thing he had ever done.

He prepared to leave Konoha, leave Hyun-su, forever.

((A/N: Man, has it been a long time, or what? I'm so sorry I've been so bad with this. Life has a funny way of screwing with you. I just hope there are still naruto fans out there to enjoy the story. Please review!))


	19. Fall So Hard

Disclaimer: You know the drill, Naruto and co. ain't mine, they have all been butt-branded by Kishimoto-sensei. However, Hyun-su is mine, all miiiine!

I have also just finished catching up to the most recent chapters of Naruto, and its become clear that although there are certain plot points that may line up, several are not, but at this point, its useless to go back and fix all of them.

**Altered Carbon** – chapter 19

Later, much later, Kankuro would have told you that it had to have been the dumbest, most senile idea ever, and that living through it surely must have been an act of God. With that disarming devil-may-care smile, he would have probably gone on to add that it had been done as a last ditch attempt to be polite.

And then he would have laughed.

But this wasn't the future. He wasn't feeling humorous in the slightest, and he wasn't laughing with you. And there was no devil-may-care smile, and he wouldn't have pleaded anything but insanity.

Standing but a few inches from the tan-colored mansion with its great, circular emblem looming on top, the puppet-master could only lick his dry lips and tell you that it just seemed like the right thing to do. And with him feeling so much like a failure, he was willing to give anything a chance, as long as it felt "right". Anything to counteract all the "wrong".

A shaking hand, fingernails still chewed off and bloody at the ends, rose to tap on those impressive 10 foot doors. Dropped. Tried again.

"Damnit, what the hell is going on?" Kankuro griped, looking down at his palm, the glistening sweat visible even at night. He felt so exposed, having gone so long without his kabuki paint and black shinobi garb. Moreso he felt emotionally naked…never in his life had he been so afraid of how his feelings were affecting his better judgment.

A plume of smoke exploded not even five feet away, and though it would have put any "normal" person on edge, Kankuro stood, transfixed and waiting for whomever might appear. His hands were casually in his pockets, and he put the most indifferent expression he could suffer through.

A high-heeled foot stepped out first, followed by lithe, pale legs.

Kankuro gulped, weak in the knees. It wasn't the worst of the pack, but for sure a close second.

"I should have never agreed to have you stay here," making no attempt to hide her regret, Tsunade's conclusion came as no surprise to the puppet-master. "Do you know how difficult my job already is?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama, I can imagine that it's time-consuming," Kankuro remarked, not trying in the least to sound disrespectful.

His stomach shrank into the size of a golf ball as her fist swung.

"You have _**no**_ idea what it's like, cretin!" Tsunade bellowed, only giving a third of her effort as she punched. The strike sent Kankuro's body backwards, skidding away from the mansion and into the dirt. "How dare you come here, after everything that's happened?"

"Do you want me dead or alive for torture?" he couldn't help to say, rubbing the already swelling cheek, his fingers cold against the bulging skin. "I didn't come here to defend myself, if that's what you think!"

"And you're _**not**_ going to see her, so get that ridiculous notion out of your head this instant!" the overpowering woman towered over Kankuro's body, peering down at him as he lay on his back like a dead animal. "Do you know how many extra shinobi I've had to hire in the past week? Mercenaries, bounty hunters…that sort of rubbish have no business here, but because _you_ couldn't keep your head out of the clouds and your dick in your pants, it's now become a necessity!"

Kankuro shriveled at the accusation, unable to counter it. He was as defenseless as he knew he would be, and then some.

But the worst was yet to come.

"Baki was wrong."

Stinging like razor-sharp thorns, Kankuro was locked with a vile glare from the Hokage. They bore into him with a breed of pure hatred he didn't think could existed in one of the "good guys".

"No one said…said I…" Kankuro's voice wouldn't finish the statement before Tsunade sent another scowl, silencing him.

"No one told you to do _anything _but your job, Kankuro." Dismissing him with a swipe of her hand, Tsunade turned her back towards her expansive estate, flaxen ponytails whipping behind her. "Leave."

The order skewered him, throat clogging from the crushing blow. Paralyzed, half-wondering if Tsunade had discovered some jutsu to imbue her words with menacing chakra, Kankuro was shocked when his voice finally returned.

"Just take care of her."

He was already back on his feet, walking away at an unusually casual swagger, when Tsunade peered over her shoulder, a tender pang buried in her heart. She'd been necessarily cruel, done what was needed…why then did she feel this guilt? Shaking away whatever tears were creeping up in her brown eyes, the Hokage held fast to her conviction, thrusting open the doors of the palace.

* * *

"_**YA!**_"

The wooden practice dummy suffered a crippling strike to its wooden body, a gruesome crack of foot against oak ringing true in the dojo's stagnant air.

A sliver of metal, a glancing metal sheen, and suddenly the mannequin was bereft of both its arms. The appendages clattered noisily onto the padded floor.

Crouching low like a native beast, Hyun-su wasn't finished, not by a long-shot, as she secured her grip on the twin hand-scythes, feeing the thick leather wrapped handle warming beneath her gloved fingers. Releasing the potential energy in her legs, she burst forwards, a bullet of flesh and cloth and white-hot anger. Her mouth opened to emit a piercing cry, unfathomably desperate and unchained.

_I hate you, Kankuro! I hate you!_ her inner self screamed, causing her vision to blur. She struggled to envision his face, at once handsome and pitiless, on the training doll, those black, beady eyes, the scar above his eyebrow that she herself had caused.

But the effort needed to imagine had left her, the ability to see his face blocked from her mind's eye, and Hyun-su's annoyance escalated into resentment.

Just before reaching the vulnerable dummy, Hyun-su kicked off the ground, pushing with chakra stored in the balls of her feet. Buzzing with anticipation, almost dizzy with her inborn fury, the kunoichi wheeled in the air, legs coming up above her as she spun upside-down. Wrestling control of her emotions, she grit her teeth together painfully, ignoring the throbbing ache as the blood in her body drained into her hand.

Slicing through the air with both her weapons, Hyun-su caught both sides of her opponent's neck with the blades. As she pulled them away from one another, the dummy's head was severed from the rest of it. But the pull was too great, and the remaining three fingers on the girl's left hand were not yet strong enough to hold onto the horrible killing device. It fell from her grasp before she cartwheeled onto the floor, now angrier than before.

She was tired of crying for herself, sick of feeling sorry for herself. Throwing away the other scythe, Hyun-su charged again, possessed by her own need for pain, for that sensation that reminded her that she was human.

_I am not a monster!_

Sakura's hand whipped from nowhere in Hyun-su's sight, pulling her away from the wounded and splintered dummy. A vicissitude of emotions spasmed in the ash-haired girl's body and mind, and it took all of her humanity to stop her onslaught. Refusing to look at her mutated hand, disgusting though it was not the sole source of her frustration, Hyun-su instead looked solemnly at the green-eyed medic-nin who had stolen her battle verve.

"Why did you stop me?" she came close to a growl, but another twinge from her hand prevented it.

Sakura grinned, as if she had the line prepared. "Because, what is all this going to fix? At the end of the day, what are broken skin and pulled muscles going to prove?"

The Konoha girl's logic, clear with its simplicity, infuriated Hyun-su. She wanted a reason to hurt, an outlet for her inner struggle, a way to release all of the confusion that separated creature from man. Was she still a tool? Was she capable of caring, or only bred to destroy? Everything she touched she broke, everyone she came into contact with ended up dead or alienated from her. Grinding her lower lip, Hyun-su finally relented when the kunoichi in front of her grabbed her hands, holding them tight.

"Revenge, anger, fear…what does it solve? It makes you into a demon, Hyun-su, something minus human," she spoke as if from personal experience, tilting her face to the side, lost in some vagrant memory. Hyun-su could only imagine what hardships Sakura had faced; during all her time spent in Konoha, she had never managed to glean specifics of the girl's past, of the "Uchiha betrayer" the other villagers whispered about, or of her connection with that outspoken young-man, Naruto.

A tear, single and pure, tipped to the corner of one of her eyes. Laughing it off, Sakura resumed her cheerful composure, long-since past the tearful, foolish genin that she'd once been. And still, a part of her wished to return to those days, when it had been so simple to be a shinobi, to not know of secrets and terrible truths. To realize that people, who should have been noble and unwavering, had fallen to base emotions, had been lead to torment their fellow man, to manufacture anomalies such as Hyun-su. Such as Sasuke.

"I don't think I could stand watching another friend turn away like that."

Hyun-su's eyes widened as Sakura hugged her again. Unlike before, this was no passing formality, a carefree gesture. It was an embrace of finality.

"What's going on…Sakura…" she managed, trying to understand what Sakura was trying to say. Surprisingly, she felt Sakura sob, shoulders slumping. Hyun-su responded by tightening her hold, unsure of what to do. When was the last time she'd comforted someone like this, held a person at the whims of their toiling past?

The recollection struck her harder than any kunai. A ghost from her past lurked into her heart at once, tugging at the strings, and sooner than she could fight back, Hyun-su discovered tears of her own were streaming down her cheeks, blotting the cloth of her shirt.

_I'll never forgive you for what you did…_

Red-eyes open, quivering in their sockets, Hyun-su cried for what prayed was the last time, devoted to a new cause. Peering back at the dilapidated training dummy, decapitated and disarmed, the ruthless kunoichi immediately saw his face, clear as ever. Her blood began to boil. She mentally spat at his image, planning the next steps that would seal both their fates.

_Father…_

_

* * *

_

The sake glass tipped free from Tsunade's ambling hand. It was empty, had been empty the entire morning and afternoon, and wobbled like a porcelain top across her desk, stopped by a pile of documents. Setting it upright, the exhausted woman felt as unsteady as the cup, ready to pass out at any given moment. If it weren't for Shizune, annoying and persistent even on the best of days, peering over her from time to time, she surely would have been drooling on paper blankets.

As if sensing the Hokage's slipping consciousness, Shizune, with Tonton not far behind her, gently shook her master's outstretched hand. It was enough to bring her back, if only momentarily.

"At least the festival should go smoothly." Smoothing back her brown-hair, the attendant cautiously gauged Tsunade's reaction, all to wise to the woman's fluctuating emotions. "Preparations are virtually complete. It should be spectacular."

The Tsunade Shizune was familiar with would have clung her sake cup straight away, using it like a make-shift shuriken. Both the medic-nin and her faithful piglet would have cowered just in time, with the cup bursting onto the wall behind them, bits of it spattering this way and that.

However, the Hokage in front of her just grimaced, giving little or no regard to her trusted confidante.

"What kind of person am I, Shizune?" she asked, not turning to face a stunned Shizune. Her gaze fell to her own hands, hands that had killed, healed, consoled and condemned. "What kind of leader am I?"

If it was a rhetorical question, she hadn't alluded to it, and Shizune debated whether or not the infamous unlucky-gambler really wanted an answer. It was a fair question…many people of power were prone to questioning their own authority, especially those with a conscience like Tsunade. But Shizune couldn't shake the feeling that her normally unshakable leader was teetering around some bigger problem.

"You are fair, kind, and firm…always ready to make the difficult decision in order to secure peace." Shizune hazarded chilly waters as she spoke, masking the apprehension in her voice with a firm nod.

Her smile turned into a strained one. She seemed amused by Shizune's response, but it had been expected all the same. The medic-nin had been by her side for so long, put up with her rash, disgruntled self when even she couldn't stand to look at herself.

"Am I? I am knowingly using a human experiment as bait in a conflict that she probably doesn't want any part in. Yesterday, I buried a man with despair and doubt, a shinobi who has only ever tried to do good…" She fought to keep her voice controlled, now wringing her hands together. "How compassionate is that? No, Shizune, that is _selfishness_, and for that I should be ashamed…"

Shizune had been afraid of that. Changing the subject was useless; she would come off as flighty. Trying to reassure the upset woman would be another waste of time; it would all seem like patronization, and if the attendant was certain of one thing, it was that Tsunade despised others feeling sorry for her. Feeling weak was one thing, needing others to pick you up was something else entirely.

"But…you're right. It has to be done." Rubbing her temples, pinching the middle of her forehead, Tsunade finally shook off her distress. Grabbing several scrolls and looking them over for what surely had been the third time, the recovering Hokage signaled to the window. "You may enter."

The three shinobi fazed into the room like identical mirages, the outlines of their bodies slipping in through the dust and light that filled the air. Indistinguishable save the designs and shapes of their masks, the ANBU silently appeared and walked towards the Hokage, Shizune backing up a few inches. Though she had battled and worked alongside many in the secretive task force, there was no mistaking the aura of intimidation that hovered around the masked agents. Suppressing a shudder, she turned her anxiety towards her hooved companion, who was frozen in place, not even able to snort.

"Hokage, everything is going as planned. Two of my men have confirmed that the puppet-shinobi has left the village and is on route to Suna. One of my shinobi is tracking him as an extra precaution," the closest ANBU stated, his mechanical voice setting even the stalwart Tsunade on edge. _Too much like those Root shinobi…_she thought, before returning her attention to the trio of efficient nin. Their shoulders and bodies were covered by cloaks, which were black. It was impossible to tell age, gender, eye-color, or any other significant trait, and it sometimes made it difficult for Tsunade to remember that these were men and women deep down; under the mask and sword beat a human heart.

"Perfect. We cannot let anything disrupt the plan. Tonight, the festival begins. Sakura, my student, has been given orders to lead our subject…" Tsunade cringed at how it had sounded, pausing momentarily, "…into the crowd, where hopefully she will be discovered by the enemy. At that moment, you will engage and detain the interlopers."

"We won't fail you, Hokage," the middle ANBU responded confidently. Then, as quickly as they had materialized, the shinobi vanished, pulled away from the room with a wordless ninjutsu.

Shizune gasped out with a noisy exhalation, feeling that it was finally safe to breath. Her eyes were hard at the edges, etched with concern that she somehow knew was being shared with the Hokage. Shizune culled the courage to say, "I don't think it's wise…to not at least tell Hyun-su about this plan."

She had become spoiled by Tsunade's recent passiveness, and the cup nearly smashed into her face, had it not been thrown haphazardly. Crying out, Shizune at once started to collect the broken shards, knowing that she had been out of line.

"Idiot…" Tsunade grunted out, almost apologizing for her actions. "There is no other way…if she were to know, do you think she'd agree? Would _you_ agree to be a target for an assault of unknown proportion? No…I would rather her live free from our deceit, than risk her escaping both us _and_ Iwa!"

At this, Shizune looked down and away, unable to contend with Tsunade's questioning. As a girl, the brown-haired woman had jokingly said, like many her age, that she wished to be Hokage, the first female one. But now, seeing the stress wearing at the lines of Tsunade's face, hearing the effects of sleepless nights in her ragged voice…Shizune would never want that burden, wished no one had to stagger underneath that weight.

Gazing sadly, the medic-nin knew there was nothing she could do or say that would change Tsunade's mind. Moving to the door with her collection of shattered white and blue porcelain, Shizune whispered, almost imperceptibly to her troubled master.

"I'll get you a new cup now."

As she left, Tsunade slouched into her chair, arms drooping to her sides in a fashion that was very uncharacteristic of the normally austere Hokage. Lazily dropping the scroll she'd been holding, she eyed it curiously as it unfurled, moving by itself. It was the same document she'd shown the Suna shinobi so many months ago, the dossier file her researchers had compiled on Hyun-su. She almost had to laugh at her past self, laugh at how naïve she had been, thinking that this was going to be a simple indictment of the Tsuchikage, something as civil as a court case. No, it seemed she was never given the luxury of a domestic dispute, that everything in her life, her shinobi world, had to be resolved on the battleground.

"And why is that battleground always Konoha…" Stopping the scroll with a single finger, Tsunade pondered the ironic question. Trailing with her eyes, the golden-haired Sannin's heart squeezed in her chest when she stared at the words underneath her thumb. Beads of sweat trickled down her paling face, the peachy color removed. "This can't be!"

She stood so abruptly that the chair nearly flew backwards into the wall. Snatching the scroll, nails tearing into parchment, Tsunade raced out of her office, alive with a fear that only discovery could wrought. Several maids and assistants, noticing the Hokage, dove recklessly out of her way, dropping whatever they were doing to avoid her torrential rush.

Now pumping her robed arms, Tsunade was about to turn a corner when –

"Granny!"

_Dig!_ Tsunade commended her heels, barely stopping herself before she crashed headfirst into the ever-impetuous Uzumaki, who seemed all too oblivious of Tsunade's apprehension. Heaving to slow her rampaging heart, her mouth opened to chastise the absentminded young man, but she remembered the scroll in her hand, remembered what had finally dawned on her, what every up till now had stupidly overseen. Instantly her facial features dropped, panic returning.

"Naruto! What are you doing here!" she exclaimed in one gasp.

Scratching the back of his head, the orange sage warily eyed the flustered Hokage. Body acted before mind could react. "Hey, Granny….why are you breathing so hard…is your chest too heavy? Maybe you should tone down the transformation ninjustsu a bit…anyway, h-have you seen Sakura today?"

"This is no time for your games, boy!" Having no time for manners, she brushed past him. Her head was so full of weariness and stress that Tsunade barely caught his last words. "Sakura? Why?'

"B-because…" the whiskered shinobi stuttered like a child, face now glowing. "I was wondering if she wanted to go to the festival…ya know…with me…"

If her heart could sink any lower, it would be laying on the ground in a bloody puddle. Now her head was so full of a roar, as is she were trying to stifle some new knowledge from her own consciousness.

She had just realized what she had just done.

"We can't let her be out there alone! It will be a massacre!" Tsunade commanded, thoroughly confusing Naruto, mouth fumbling and eyes widened.

_Damnit! What have we done?_ Oh, the bitter irony! She had thought she had known every detail, and all the time she'd been diligently working right into the enemy's plot. Grabbing Naruto by the cuff of his sleeve, Tsunade continued her way down to the bottom floor of the mansion.

_They aren't going to take her back to Iwa alive at all…they're going to use her as a weapon right here and right now! They knew we would use her as a lure!_ Tsunade thought she might collapse, a fierce undertow pulling at her, and she uttered a slew of obscenities, though it was more like the obscenities were uttering her.

"Hey, HEY! Slow down! What the hell's going on!" Naruto was at last able to yell, barely keeping his feet on the ground as Tsunade tore past the doors, emerging into the outside world.

All around were her people, her shinobi, her civilians. The late evening air was suffused with the scents of the fall festival, of food and alcohol, of fire being lit in bonfires to sparklers meant to dazzle the small children with their effervescent lights. Sound also permeated into the atmosphere, laughing and cajoling, and Tsunade's brain absorbed the infinite threat that her plan had allowed into the village. Glancing from left to right, Tsunade couldn't stand the sight of the people of Konoha, so unaware and blissful.

Unless Tsunade did something, and did it _fast_, everyone here was in mortal danger.

((A/N: A shorter chapter, but I'm trying to pick up the pace, no need for a lot of development and such. Please read and review!))


	20. The enemy of my enemy

Disclaimer: Twenty chapters, and no, I still am not the owner of Naruto.

Also, as the storyline in the actual manga has accelerated faster than I could write this humble fanfiction, there will be notable differences between two.

Altered Carbon – chapter 20

It was a cold and stark night, absent of any breeze. It failed to carry any clouds, and the moon shown bright overhead, pulsing with an almost magnetic glow.

Her wonder was so strong that she had to clutch onto a nearby post to keep from falling.

The sight filled the night sky in the Land of Fire; the immensity of it was scarcely conceivable. As if from Heaven itself, giant explosions and implosions of beautiful light hung in the air, trembled, and then died away. Pale greens, rose pinks and sky blues, as transparent as the most fragile fabric, the fireworks shimmered like a troop of dancers, their skirts alighting the dark canvas up above.

As she gazed, the village itself became a thing of light, reflecting back the intense play of color and sound. And each candle, each paper lantern and sconce seemed to work hand in hand with the skylights. Hyun-su was moved by it; it was so astonishing it was almost holy; she felt tears prick her eyes, and the tears splintered the light even further into prismatic rainbows. It wasn't long before she found herself entering the same kind of trance as when she dreamt.

A part of her heart stirred, unsatisfied. Clutching her three-fingered hand to the internal, emotional wound that lay there, Hyun-su's chest tightened when she observed a miniature _banraku _puppet show. A cluster of ten or so children all leaned in for a better look at the theatrics; their laughs only served to emphasize the young girl's sadness. With a morbid grin, she briefly considered using her own chakra strings to immobilize and tear apart the marionettes.

_Maybe the "me" from two months ago would have…but now…_ Eyes moistened, Hyun-so backed away from the giggling throng of youngsters. Her backside collided with something soft, and for the smallest of seconds, her heart fluttered violently, thinking only of her puppet master.

"Hyun-su."

Sakura's voice disappointed the ruby-eyed girl, but it was no fault of her own, and Hyun-su smothered the sinking in her heart.

"You look lovely, I'm glad you finally caved in!" Sakura exclaimed excitedly, still in disbelief that the rogue kunoichi was actually donning something other then rag-tag threads falling apart at the seams.

It was true, the kimono was lovely, and Hyun-su bit her lip as she looked down at herself. Made of rich golden and auburn shades, the fabric that swathed her body felt like it must have cost a fortune to make. At first she had objected to wearing such a pricey outfit, but Sakura had been, adamant as always.

Turning so Sakura couldn't read her expression, she fidgeted with the long, cumbersome sleeves, marking her as an unmarried woman. She laughed at that. For some reason, and it had never happened before, Hyun-su was sad to consider herself single.

"Y-yeah…thanks…Hyun see muttered, voice cracking.

"Hyun-su, please try to enjoy today."

It made sense. Why was she clinging to the past? This was the reason to avoid connections; they lingered like an infection on the inside. Wiping away the imaginary tears, Hyun-su rejoined Sakura as they strolled past the variety of stands.

Pausing at a cart selling grilled chicken, not even partially interested, Hyun-su's eyes drifted skyward. Following the trail of the cosmic atmosphere, its galactic curves and impregnable depth, she thought to herself,

_Yes, it will get easier. It has too._

The vender recoiled at Hyun-su's disfigured hand when she tried to pay, and the violence in her heart reared itself, roaring in the front of her brain. It took whatever shred of humanity she had to keep her from mauling the inconsiderate clod into a greasy pulp. That, and the fact that Tsunade would probably do the same to _her_ if she damaged a single hair on anyone's head. Hyun-su was down to her last chance with the devastatingly beautiful Hokage…political asylum was a commodity she could not afford to lose.

"Thanks, now we'd best be on our way, right?" Sakura twinged at her friend's stifling rage, grabbing their meal and hurrying away.

Back in the crowd, Hyun-su blushed down to her clavicle. Her reaction had stunned even herself. How long would it be until she could fully reconcile these urges to destroy? Would the disease ever truly leave?

"Hey, you'd better watch it, the last thing is another incident like in the forest…" Sakura cautioned, but it had come out harsher than she'd meant.

"Right…" Hyun-su answered coolly. Sakura's tone had only been cautionary, but her words had embarrassed her. "I'm sorry…I just feel on edge…like…"

"Nothing's going to happen, Hyun-su." But Sakura had answered too loudly and too quickly.

Hyun-su's face went slack.

"You know something. Don't you."

Sakura glanced nervously at the ground, as if she expected it to open with a cavernous yawn and swallow her up. She still was a lousy liar, even since that pathetic attempt to persuade Naruto to give-up on his mission to bring Uchiha Sasuke back to Konoha. The memory settled, but not before Hyun-su ensnared her with a vicious glare.

"Do not lie to me, Sakura…what is going on?" she barked, hair bristling. Humanity aside, the beast began to curdle in her gut, the instinct to protect herself returning. The medic-nin could feel Hyun-su's eyes boring into what was surely her inner core.

The pink-haired kunoichi cracked her lips open, but not before a howl of pain cut into the impregnable night like a knife. Every head turned to the source, save Sakura, whose eyes jerked to Hyun-su, filled with dread and something else…knowing? As if she'd expected this?

"Follow me!" Sakura shouted, feet beating on the ground quickly.

They darted in and out of people, as the single cry from before multiplied into three, and then six. Soon, the air was suffocated with screams of terror and Hyun-su's head was growing dizzy with confusion. She looked left, right, forward, but all she could seem to see were the denizens of Konoha scattering like wild rabbits, trying to escape some invisible predator.

Three flashes of white passed overhead; at first Hyun-su thought them to be shooting stars. But shooting stars couldn't change course like, veering and careening masterfully on the shingled rooftops.

Arching her thin eyebrows, Hyun-su knew all too well that the presence of Konoha's ANBU meant they were facing a worse-case scenario. Whipping her head around, she noticed that they were heading in the same direction she and Sakura were, though at a considerably faster rate. Hyun-su scowled at her cumbersome attire, which made it difficult to move her legs, her sandals slipping several times on loose gravel and freshly fallen leaves. With a swift kick, they flipped off into the air, soaring on some random tangent.

Fresh waves of pain inched up her feet were exposed to the jagged surfaces, but she refused to flinch. Inhaling sharply – a particularly sharp rock had just pierced between her toes – Hyun-su finally arrived at the dead center of the festival.

The sight was gruesome, horrifying.

Limbs lay on the ground, almost arranged within a mass of blood and bones. The stench of death reeked, and Hyun-su's nose shriveled.

"Who…who has done this?"

Sakura shook her head, feeling faint at scene of such gore. There were no recognizable features on the victim's body…no sign if it were child or elder, girl or boy…just carnage.

At once, Hyun-su registered an evil presence, just as a few more shadows materialized before the two kunoichi and the small squad of ANBU. Rolling up one of her sleeves, the ash-haired girl balled up on of her hands, ready to command her organs to produce a lethal dosage.

Sakura immediately interrupted her. "You can't do that! You know what will happen!" she cried out, pulling out a kunai dagger from a hidden weapon pouch strapped to the inside of her legs.

"I know! You don't have to remind me!" She waved her hands frantically, a sticky mask of sweat dripping off her skin. It was without poison, and Hyun-su cursed that fact. Being able to use her most efficient combat technique would have made the battle so much easier…

A zip right before her eyes, and Hyun-su blinked a second too soon. Her breath snatched away by the blur, and then suddenly a fist plummeted into her chest, thrusting her back several feet.

"_Oomph!_" she gasped, catching herself. A rasping cough lurched up the backside of her throat. She brushed her lips.

Blood.

_From such a small attack_, Hyun-su realized with a tang of cynicism as she spat onto the cloudy ground.

The next time she was ready, bringing both arms as her invisible assailant launched themselves again. Her forearms braced herself against a pair of metal covered limbs, heavily armored while her own flesh was naked and unprotected. The pain nearly caused her to buckle; this person was strong, unimaginably so, and the small spaces in between the steel sheets were beginning to cut into her.

_Damnit! If only I could…_she started to think, until she realized that thinking was going to get her killed.

She lunged to the side, bringing the weight of the attacker down and around. Her hands finally free, she used them to ram their head deep into the ground, and heard the satisfying crunch of bone.

A moment passed and Hyun-su felt safe, which could only mean she was anything but. Looking at the shinobi, she could easily identify the gray and brown fabric of Iwa's soldiers. Her skin pricked; they had finally brought the war to Konoha.

A fetid breeze carried past her nose again, and Hyun-su looked at the severed pieces of Konoha's citizens strewn about, the innocents whose blood now painted the streets. The face of a young girl, her eyes brutally sliced clear from her skull, seemed to peer up from the pile with a vacant expression. Her heart stopped, seized by remorse, feelings she'd never known until recently, and was now left to contend with.

"This…this is…" Hyun-su whispered, not to Sakura though she was just in ear's reach of her. "This is unforgivable."

Sakura bit her lips. Looking at the incapacitated and probably dead man below them, the kunoichi was hardly able to hold back the bile, sickened by the senseless carnage. "Hyun-su…"

The girl's eyes widened, blood-pitched and quivering. "_I will __**NEVER**__ forgive him!_" she howled like an animal, dropping onto all fours and scratching at the dirt. Pouncing with a feral quickness, Hyun-su moved past Sakura just as another shinobi tried to blind-side her. Her nails pierced and cleaved into the second man's tough mask, breaking the ash-gray shell. With a hissing sound, she ripped the shield away, and proceeded to gouge her fingers directly into his eyes.

She ignored the horrified screams, kept pushing her nails further and further until they finally scraped the backs of the sockets. Ripping her hand free, Hyun-su pushed the second dead man away from her, heaving and wheezing. Her entire right arm was drenched, but it meant little, not when there were sure to be more of the criminals around.

Spinning wildly, Hyun-su lashed out. "Where are you! Where _are __**you!**_" Her voice was haggard and breaking, but she continued to goad the hidden shinobi. All the while, still shell-shocked, Sakura, who normally possessed amazing clarity in battle, could do nothing. Had it not been for Hyun-su, who knew if she might still draw breath. But had the untamed kunoichi really meant to save her, or had she just been out for the kill?

Drawing up her blade, the pink-haired medic-nin tried to remember all of her master's teachings, what to do when the shit had truly hit the fan. She scanned the area, tried to make out something amidst the surrounding chaos. Hundreds of people were still scrambling to escape, and several fires had somehow burst to life, engulfing carts and stands. Several civilians had been caught by the blaze, but thankfully other medics were finally on the scene, wrapping them up in blankets to smother them out.

"_Sakura-chan! Sakura-chan!_"

She squinted into the center of the embroiled swarm, trying to find the owner of the familiar voice. "Naruto?" she said, softly at first and then stronger. "Naruto! We're here!" Waving her hands about, Sakura risked ignoring Hyun-su for just a second. She motioned her friend over to them, hoping that he brought good news.

The look on his face was enough to thwart the hope. His eyes were squinting and his lips were hard and set on his face. There was no trace of the light-hearted Uzumaki Naruto.

"You've got to come with me…we've got to get you out of here! Away from _her!_" he commanded, grasping her delicate wrist and yanking hard. Sakura immediately pulled back, reacting to the sudden jerk of his hand. She shot him a bewildered stare, as if none of what he said could be true.

Sakura wrenched her hands away, now wondering if she was should have been so glad to see Naruto again. "Leave Hyun-su? What are you, nuts!" she questioned quickly, "The whole reason for us being here was to bring them out! Where are the ANBU? Aren't they supposed to protect us?"

Naruto shook his head before looking over at Hyun-su, twitching to and fro, motions erratic and unpredictable. She looked just as frightened and dangerous as a caged or cornered animal. "No…Tsunade…she needs you to get away from her…before it's too late. I can't explain why, not now!"

"No…_No!_" Sakura protested defiantly, taking a step back. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, didn't want to hear any more of it. Covering her face, Sakura shook when she felt Naruto's hands grip tightly around her waist. "I'm not leaving her!" she shouted, trying to claw herself free again.

She was almost successful, just about to rip herself away when she caught a glance from Hyun-su, who had gone as silent as a wisp.

It was a look she would never forget...one she had seen only once before and had prayed she'd never see again.

Hyun-su was facing both her and Naruto, arms slack. Her shoulders slightly hunched, the kunoichi stared like a curious child, ignorant and mild. Her face was at ease, mouth slightly open as she breathed slow and steadily.

But her eyes. They were different now. Not in color or shape or size. But in the sheer apathy that was pouring from them now. There was nothing in them, no hate or anger, not even sadness.

Nothing.

It was like she had died but could somehow still stand. The living dead.

"H-hyun…" Sakura called out, reaching towards the other girl. "What's wrong with you…" Her fingers quivered in the dark, trying to find their way to her friend's shoulders.

Naruto began to panic, he shook the girl in his arms again, hissed sharply into her ears. "We have to go!" Pulling her back, Naruto was almost too late as Hyun-su began to move, mechanically at first, and then smooth and gliding, like living oil. She tore across the distance, face still like that of a doll, hiding all menace and fatigue.

Tucking Sakura into his stomach, Naruto dodged out of the way just as Hyun-su sliced again with her nails. The sound was like a whistle, and Naruto knew he should be counting his blessings that he hadn't been shredded into ribbons. Coming back up to his feet, he released the medic-nin. "She's not the same…she's changed somehow! It was all part of their plan, or something…"

He sounded just as confused as Sakura was, as if the truth was more unbelievable than the lie. Taking out a cluster of razor-sharp shuriken, the orange-clad shinobi whipped them towards Hyun-su, the metal stars arching with elegant precision.

Unflinching, she cartwheeled through the barrage. A few hairs were cut away, but other than that she emerged without a scratch, that same placid expression on her face. Once again, Sakura tried to look past the obscure gaze, tried to find something beneath it. Heart sinking, she realized that something had crawled inside and twisted her conscience, changing her into a husk.

Ash-hair whipping around her cheeks, Hyun-su jutted to the side, and then suddenly vanished.

The air was robbed from both Konoha shinobi. They craned their necks, eyes scanning and finally searching upwards.

"_**MOVE!**_" Naruto roared, voice cracking from the strain. He could barely force his body to react fast enough as the kimono-clad kunoichi slammed down from the sky. Her fists split the earth easily, sending a tremor across the surface.

Sakura was stunned by her beastial strength, which seemed to almost rival her own. The poisonous kunoichi had never displayed power like this before, and in the face of it she faltered. Sakura didn't dare to think what might have happened if Hyun-su hadn't missed. Blinking the dust from her eyes, the debris kicked up from the impact, the medic-nin brought her fists up, ready to defend herself. They couldn't keep evading Hyun-su's strikes, not with her deadly accuracy and seemingly newfound might.

Naruto cleared his throat. "She's coming again! Watch it!"

Just like before, Hyun-su's outline disappeared, and immediately phased back into place, this time directly in Sakura's face.

_**C-c-c-r-a-a-a-a-c-k!**_

Uppercutting into Hyun-su's defenseless chin, Sakura could barely believe she'd gotten the attack out in time. She'd seen it, _felt it_…a moment of hesitation in Hyun-su's assault, as if a hint of her true self had cracked the shell of her possession. Waiting as Hyun-su recoiled backwards, collapsing, Sakura had to fight the urge to kneel beside her friend, tend to the wound she herself had inflicted.

The girl remained motionless, like a corpse, save her open eyes. They were unfazed, as if nothing had happened, as if Sakura had never laid a finger on her. Then, slowly and like an automaton, Hyun-su gathered herself, climbing back to her feet. Her kimono was torn in several places, covered with filth. Blood was spilling from between her teeth; she'd accidentally crushed her lip during the hit and part of it was now missing. Unlike before, she didn't bother to smear it away, but let it trickle onto her collarbone.

"Sakura…please…" Naruto begged, the pleading in his voice pulling at Sakura's gut. She wanted to stay, didn't want to give up on Hyun-su, the good that surely was laying dormant somewhere.

But there was a time for hope and a time for logic, for escape and calculation. Glancing at Hyun-su, at her eerie, hollow eyes, it suddenly became painfully obvious that there was nothing she could do.

Hyun-su started to charge again. Grabbing her by the wrist again, Naruto began their retreat, trying not to look behind him, at the girl who was surely catching up to them despite her bleeding feet. Heart throbbing, he instead grasped Sakura's hang tighter, drawing confidence in the fact that he had saved her. It filled him with pride, longing and something else he couldn't dwell on, but instead he pushed on, tearing through the thicket of burning, splintered tents and carts. How and when the fire had erupted was beyond him, but his face was pale and sweaty against the bristling heat.

Gritting his sharp teeth, Naruto could feel Sakura's resolve leaving her in the way she staggered, the loping of her feet off-balance and awkward.

He pitched his head around. "Sakura-chan! Don't stop!" he yelled to her, and then he realized to himself as well. "She's not the same girl! She's _not_ Hyun-su!"

It was just as foreign the second time hearing it, probably would have been the hundredth. She quickened her gate, trying to keep up with her friend and former team-mate. But then a glimpse out the corner of her eye found Hyun-su treading dangerously close, homing in on her prey.

She acted fast and foolishly, shoving into the orange-clad shinobi, veering them off course. The spun wildly out of control, propelled by their lunging, misguided strides. Tumbling with a series of gasps and shouts, Sakura knew it would only be a few moments before Hyun-su would realize her strategy.

It was her time to lead. Sakura grabbed at Naruto's hands, trying to get his attention as they finally came to a clumsy halt, having almost run directly into a handcart in shambles. The now familiar sound of sliced air honed close, but Sakura focused her chakra directly into her legs, lunging up and away from the crawling Hyun-su. Exploding into the air, Sakura aimed for a series of rooftops that seemed more or less intact.

"NOW!" Sakura screamed, summoning her last shred of strength to charge forward, letting go of Naruto so that she could pump her arms vigorously. He was not far behind, but then again so was Hyun-su. Her body pounded with ache, confusion tearing at her will to move.

Feet _rat-rat-tatting_ on the earthenware shingles, the two Konoha shinobi saw a host of ANBU, not even 50 feet away. Her heart soared. _Reinforcements! _she thought to herself, elated at the promise of much-needed help. They neared closer and closer, and she ignored the sound of Hyun-su's pounding footsteps, the hissing of her breath.

And then…

A wave of calm surrounding her mind as she suddenly felt herself teeter onto the ground. She faintly registered Naruto's voice howling. It was muffled and seemed so far away.

A crescendo of pain crept into her body, slow at first but building with ferocity. Sakura clutched at something cold and wet, sticking through her left tricep.

A needle. The kind that Hyun-su would normally coat with poison.

She choked on fear, intelligent mind trying to wrap itself around this new, fatal turn on events. Sakura gripped at the pin and pulled. Her fingers flinched at the sting, but nevertheless she succeeded in removing the weapon. She waited impatiently for some kind of adverse reaction, whether it be a numbing pressure or heightened heart beat, triggering hypertension. Seconds trickled on. Sakura's hearing began to regain itself, and quite suddenly, Naruto's gut-wrenching howls of worry were blaringly loud.

"_SAKURA! SAKURA!_" he screamed, holding the pink-haired girl close to his throbbing chest. His arms swallowed her whole, and he immersed Sakura with his love, with his need to protect her.

Sakura struggled to breath. Her friend's grip was immensely strong. "I'm….I'm okay…" she finally whispered, in disbelief that she was indeed so. As far as she could tell, Hyun-su had _spared_ her a painful, slow death by poison. She coughed up something, half expecting it to be blood, but it was only spittle and phlegm from their rampant chase.

Two ANBU came in to inspect Sakura, the third scanning the horizon, his vision piercing through the slits in his mask. He searched for any signs of another attack from Hyun-su.

"Are you able to stand, Haruno Sakura?" one of the ANBU questioned in a flat tone. He motioned for Naruto to release her, which he did with marked hesitation. Providing his hand, Sakura got up slowly, the pain leaving her arm now that she knew it had been untainted. Her muscles were probably ripped apart, but it was nothing she couldn't heal herself.

"I'm alright, but we need to leave. Where is Tsunade?" Sakura asked, refocused and calm. Fretting about from a paper-cut was the worst thing she could do now. Ripping off a small section of her kimono, the medic-nin quickly tied up her injury as fast as she could.

"She's with the other medic-nin, helping to tend to the civilian casualties. The other ANBU are countering the Iwa threat as we speak," he answered methodically and coldly, gesturing over to the plume of smoke rising in the western corner of the village. "They have brought many of their elite shinobi…it would be wise for you to return to the palace or hospital in order – "

"Ridiculous." Sakura glowered at the ANBU. She knew where she was best needed, and that her teacher and leader would need all the help she could afford. And Sakura would be _damned_ before she sulked back to be patched up. "I'm coming with you, as well as Naruto…we can help."

The two ANBU looked at each other momentarily. They did not speak, but instead communicated to each other with vague, nearly indiscriminant gestures. "We won't stop you," he finally quipped. "Come this way."

They four of them turned quickly, rejoining with the third ANBU. Wondering where Hyun-su was now, wondering if there was any alternate in saving her, or if death was going to be her only recourse, Sakura made her way with the cabal. The fire they approached had grown in strength, gobbling up buildings and homes. She didn't know if Iwa had intentionally started it in order to spurn mass confusion, or if had been so accidental outcome of battle, but it was spreading at an alarming rate. If someone didn't smother it, half of Konoha was going to burnt to the ground by sunrise.

As they ran along the rooftops, Sakura yelled to one of the masked assassins, "Who is in charge of controlling and outing the fire?"

"Several Chuunin and Jonin have already started to summon waterspouts and bring water from the wells…" This ANBU was female, and her voice was filled with a shred of concern. It was unlike them, and this told Sakura that the situation may have escalated beyond Tsunade's control.

"The attack from Iwa is slowing down the effort! They won't stop the fire in time if they're defending themselves!" Sakura calculated, trying to not sound so desperate. But her voice trembled anyway as more of the red and orange flames consumed the village she loved so much. Her friends were out there probably, may be in danger. She didn't want to, but part of her was beginning to hate Hyun-su, for bringing this malice and disease into Konoha.

"Sakura, come with me," the female ANBU declared. "We will go and see what the situation is with Tsunade. Then we'll come back and meet with the rest of you at the fire."

There was no time for a heart-felt goodbye or hug. Naruto disappeared in the billowing smoke, flanked by ANBU. Sakura dashed faster than she'd ever before, though she was finding it difficult to keep up with her masked colleague. Even with a cumbersome cape, the shrouded kunoichi was not hurt like Sakura was, and the damage to her arm was started to bleed again now that she was running. She summoned a bit of her chakra and hurriedly pushed it into the slashed flesh. It hardly mended it, but for now at least the pain could be ignored.

"We're almost there," the ANBU announced, changing her path twice. "Tsunade is down there…_Oh no!_"

Sakura peered down as they cleared another gap in the roofs and saw the blond-haired Sannin, surrounded by what must have been twenty or so gray-clad shinobi. The small army charged, but were bounced back like ineffective kunai were repelled from a stone wall. Sakura grinned at her teacher's strength, but she suddenly paled when she thought about the wounded Tsunade had been trying to heal. If she had been reduced to fighting, that meant few medic-nin were left.

"We have to help her!" Thrusting forward with each balanced jump, Sakura plunged down, air whistling against her ears.

As if she'd seen it coming, Tsunade turned around just as Sakura landed next to her, both of them looking weary. The only difference between their expressions was that the Hokage's was mixed with something akin to guilt. At first it was almost as if she was avoiding Sakura's bewildered gaze, knowing that she was about to be met with a barrage of questions.

"I don't know how this happened…but I think you know that Hyun-su can no longer be trusted," she counteracted before Sakura's lips could part, voice biting and vindictive. "Sakura, I need you to help with the wounded. We've lost too many medic-nin…only help those who you think are going to survive. It's too late for the others…"

To have made such a difficult decision, the situation must have been worse than Sakura could have ever imagined. She let her Hokage's side, but not before asking, "She's a sleeper-agent, isn't she? This was triggered by Iwa, wasn't it?"

_Smart girl_, Tsunade thought, not at all surprised that Sakura had figured it out on her own. "Yes, it seems that Iwa has triggered within Hyun-su an offense mechanism. She's not in control of her actions, but that doesn't mean we can excuse all the damage she's caused. She needs to be neutralized, by any means possible."

Sakura had to fight to remain composed. "Y-yes…Hokage."

Just then, the sound of clashing steel crept from all sides. Another attack…who knew how many? Tsunade clenched her fists, infuriated by the enemy's shameless tactics. She was fully aware that they had wounded a large number of people, and then shred into the medic-nin on purpose. It was all part of their plan to keep Tsunade isolated from the growing threat of fire. They knew Tsunade would never leave so many wounded and dying, not while she still could summon chakra. What Tsunade didn't know was where their leader was, who was directing the attack. If she could find the locus, and strike and fell it, the horde would quickly disperse. Few battalions continue to fight when leaderless, and Tsunade had a sneaking suspicion that Iwa's shinobi wasn't one of them.

"Hurry, Sakura! Help them!" she commanded, just as another regiment of Iwa soldiers clustered around her, trying to initiate a pincer-attack. She did not have enough to time to check and see if Sakura had cleared the monstrous herd of blades, but she had faith in her student.

Tsunade charged just as the last shinobi had completed the circle. "_Come on! Let's get this over with!_" Pigtails flipping over her shoulders, Tsunade side-stepped out of the way of two shinobi, and then proceeded to rip into them, smashing her elbow into the spine of one while grabbing the other by the back of his shirt. She swung him skyward with her massive strength, flinging him like a wad of paper, not caring to see where he landed. The next few seconds were a blinding tornado of kicks, punches and grapples. Tsunade's clothes were becoming more and more red with the blood of her attackers; she was beyond the concept of taking prisoners. She was going to make each and every one of Iwa's dogs regret their decision to try and invade _her_ country.

Slamming another shinobi headfirst into the ground, the crack of his shoulders rattling his entire body, Tsunade was left with only three more to deal with. They blinked at each other, their bravado lost with their strength in numbers. One of them inched backwards, as if considering retreat. Before one of the others could yell at him to stop, Tsunade leapt, a thing of terrible beauty and power. Taking a page from Kankuro's book, she landed with both heels tunneling into the small of the man's back, crushing his vertebrae. Blood coating the ground where they landed, and Tsunade realized that she did not care if the man lived or died.

It was now down to two, and Tsunade could tell they wanted to surrender. They had laid down their weapons and were sunken down into the dirt. Heads tilted into their bent knees, the two Iwa Shinobi could probably feel the heat from Tsunade's eyes as she stared down, finding it tremendously difficult to be merciful.

It was Sakura's voice that finally brought her back to sanity.

"Hokage-sama! We need survivors!" she pleaded, finished healing her second patient. There were so many of them, some who, like Tsunade had said, were beyond help, halfway past the veil. But Sakura was determined to save as many as she could, and had only stopped her pursuit when she could see Tsunade's rage. It was becoming a living entity, a creature that had no pity for life…a monster.

First Sasuke, then Hyun-su. Sakura didn't think she could bear another comrade, another loved-one, sink into that sort of rage.

Tsunade's loathing subsided briefly. She marched towards the two shinobi, still unable to look up at the Hokage, much too afraid to look at death's eye. They were trembling, and it was this that finally shook the blond-haired woman from her rage completely. It left her breathless and shocked, and she stared in disbelief at the mountains of bodies around her.

"You…stand," she spoke to the man on the left. The authority in her voice was undisputable. "**Now.**"

He looked up, pulling a tarnished mask to reveal a whimpering man of probably twenty-five. Several scars traveled across his face, and his tears fell into the grooves.

"Tell me. Why are you doing this? Where is your commander?" Tsunade controlled the growl in her voice. She pulled the other man off the dirt, and shook him briskly. "Why have you done this?"

The man instantly began to sob from behind his mask. When Tsunade found his voice too difficult to understand, she ripped off the fiberglass shield. She was shocked to find that this man's face was also covered with scars, disfiguring it.

"We-we didn't want to! He made us!" he blubbered, trying to hide his face with his hands.

"_**Who?**_" Tsunade asked again, fiercely this time. Every moment was precious. She knew her shinobi were still combating the rest of the Iwa forces on top of trying to get that damn fire out.

The man on the ground answered, scared for his life if his friend did not speak quickly enough. "The…the Tsuchikage! He is in Konoha!"

Tsunade's eyebrows lifted in bafflement. It was scarcely conceivable that the old man from Iwa had become so deranged that he would leave his own country to wreck war on another, especially in times of peace. There was something that he wanted so badly as to risk it all on one, preposterous attack. Now all Tsunade had to figure out was what it was.

She stared hard at her captives. They looked ready to soil themselves.

"Where?"


	21. No World for Tomorrow

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Kishimoto's shinobi, but I do own Hyun-su.

Also, as the storyline in the actual manga has accelerated faster than I could write this humble fanfiction, there will be notable differences between two.

Altered Carbon – chapter 21

The last thing Kankuro wanted to do was be tailed. And it wasn't because he was fearful of an ambush. Hell, he'd been in enough tight-spots to know how to react, when to counterattack, all that nonsensical bullshit.

No, the thing he hated most was having to put up a front for a _really_ long time, because Kankuro was many things, but a man of patience was not one of them. He had to walk lackadaisically, but not with a swagger…couldn't look cocky or too relaxed or it would come off as a ruse. On a different stroke it would be just as fatal to show fear, to let the enemy know he was on to them. The longer he led them on, the more time Kankuro gave himself to develop a plan, lead them to someplace that afforded him the upper-edge.

Of course, having three of Tsunade's cronies forming a triangle of love around him certainly wasn't adding any help. He gruffly acknowledged the escort squad as they trudged through the thick forest, trying his hardest to not look over his shoulders too much. Once or twice one of the men would strike up some hum-drum conversation, and Kankuro would give a few responses, a nod here, a shrug there. All the while, he paid most attention to the aura floating around them.

He almost cracked a smile when he remembered the last time someone had been following him around these parts, that time he'd nearly had his ticket punched for the last time. What was it about these woods that made them seem so fated?

_Hyun-su_…he thought wistfully, wondering where exactly she was. He had to put his faith in Tsunade, in his brother, and that was something else Kankuro was not: trusting. A part of him knew that Hyun-su was a tough kid, able to defend herself. But he had to also remember that part of defense relied on knowing the plan, and Hyun-su hadn't been filled in on her role as "Rock-village-bait". He grimaced, feelings tugging at his heart, worry taking him over.

He listened to the pounding of their feet on grass and dirt. A man with two swords strapped to his back led the way. Following a narrow corridor cut out of the forest, the black-clad shinobi wondered if his enemy was growing as impatient as he was.

"Can't believe we have to be out here, while everyone else is back at the festival," one of the guards mumbled, eyes lingering on Kankuro as he spoke.

Another man spat back. "Yeah, you'd think this guy could find his own way back, especially since he's been coming here so long."

"Hey, I'm not deaf, morons," Kankuro had to say, not at all sympathetic to the men's strife. "I don't like having excess baggage with me, either."

"Baggage?" the man with the katana barked. "How dare you…if it wasn't for you and that stupid girl, none of this would be happening. Did you know that?"

Blood pumped through his veins faster than normal. _Keep calm_, Kankuro thought as he maintained a steady pace. His fists wanted to clench, his teeth yearned to grind, but he had to squelch the urge, lest he give up the ploy he'd labored over for the past 30 minutes.

Suddenly, the men in front of him turned around so quickly that Kankuro almost barged into them. It took him by surprise, his pale face reddening with anger.

"What's the big deal?" the sand shinobi snarled. The sound of his own voice shocked him, and he pulled back immediately.

"I mean, face it, this _is_ all your fault, isn't it?" The surety in the armed man's words caught Kankuro off-guard yet again, and he raised his damaged eyebrow inquisitively.

One of the other shinobi stepped forward slightly. He gestured as he spoke, pointing his fingers accusingly. "Its true…it won't be long before Suna scum like you won't be allowed anywhere near here. I can't wait for the day…"

Something was terribly wrong, and Kankuro didn't need a dictionary to tell him that there was serious foul play in action. Three pairs of hooded eyes bore into him like lasers, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. Involuntarily, he took a small step back, only to find that he had somehow been cornered, a wall of tree trunks behind him.

All at once, Kankuro noticed the three men's toothy grins and the way in which their hands seemed to twitch, as if anxious to hold a blade. _What the fuck?_ his mind said, his own hands slowly reaching behind him for one of his scrolls. Thankfully, he'd had the foresight to bring them along instead of entrusting them to one of his siblings back in Konoha. Sweat dripped into his eyes, momentarily blinding him.

"Don't you know?" A man with choppy red-hair motioned back towards the village, and Kankuro's breath fell short when he finally saw the flares and smoke rising steadily, visible even from such a distance. "The attack has already started…that little beast-bitch is probably already dead!" the shinobi sneered, a small scar on his lips causing his smile to curl unnaturally.

Again Kankuro looked towards Konoha as another flash went off, accompanied by a large plume of billowing blackness. The smell of fire was growing hot in the air. Kankuro knew he was being told the truth, and yet didn't want to believe any of it. _You can't be…no…you're still there…_his thoughts scrambled together as he faced the three unruly escorts. Moments had only passed, but they were now lingering close, much too close for Kankuro's liking. He could vaguely sense the stench of alcohol rolling off of one of the man's breath. All three stunk of evil.

"So, you've been here the entire time, eh?" Kankuro spoke with his classic sarcasm as he turned around, showing his back to the trio.

"Making it easy on us? You'll regret that!" one of the men screamed, murder on his tongue as he lunged towards Kankuro, hands producing a flurry of kunai. "You'll regret not taking us seriously!"

Flinging the blades, the shinobi was sure of his mark, but he blinked too soon, and suddenly Kankuro was no where in sight. The kunai were harmlessly lodged into the tree, still vibrating back and forth.

_**POOF!**_

Wooden arms swung like falling logs into the man's chest, knocking him back several feet, his ribs cracking violently. Stumbling onto the ground, gasping for air, the unarmed shinobi looked desperately towards his companions, who seemed as dumbstruck as he was.

Karasu's figure blurred into sight, at first wearing Kankuro's signature black garb, but then shedding it piece by piece to reveal his lifeless body, invulnerable to pain, unbound by the needs of organic life. The battle-puppet clattered malevolently towards the downed soldier, wrists flipping up to reveal blood-hungry daggers. With a quick slashing strike, the man fell to the ground, gurgled for a fraction of a moment, and then lay still.

The whole attack had taken only 5 seconds from start to finish. Blood was still pumping from the dead man's throat, torn open from the blindingly quick assault, long after his eyes had closed.

But Kankuro was far from finished. There were still two more victims-to-be, and his machinations had long been lusting for a chance to prove themselves. Karasu's false eyes rolled indelicately within his wooden head, as if to search out his future prey. Spotting the two other shinobi, now shaking in their sandals, a voice erupted from the puppet's soulless mouth, projected by some kind of ventriloquism.

"_Still in the mood? Still eager to taste my blood?_" Kankuro's voice spooled out eerily. Not in the least bit of a generous mood, he moved his weapon forward with painful accuracy. With a quick jerk, Karasu zoomed around and behind; the sand-nin jabbed his hands in front of him, causing his puppet to do the same.

Before they could even guess what had happened, the remaining shinobi looked down, only to find themselves impaled on two assassin's blades thrust clean through their hearts. Eyes rolling back, they slumped to the ground soundlessly.

"Hmph." Kankuro emerged from his hiding spot, a nestle of tree leaves just overhead. Releasing Karasu with a surge of light and mist, the puppet-master collected his scroll back up, latching it onto his back once again.

His face showed no pride, but was knit was concern. Without thinking, he retraced his steps back towards Konoha, to the one place he knew he'd never be welcome again, not if Tsunade had any words about it. The way things looked, however, it seemed like the gondaime could use all the assistance her sake-sneaking hands could find. Mind made-up, Kankuro increased speed, bursting into a full-sprint. He ignored the apprehension clogging his throat, reaching all the way down into his stomach, and tried to think only of how he was going to save Hyun-su.

"God damnit!" he yelled, a thorny branch ripping into the skin of his face as he charged ahead. Lucky that it hadn't hit his eyes, Kankuro maintained his pace, increased it even as the lights from Konoha came into focus. Fortunately for him, even though he'd been traveling for a hot minute, the guards had insisted they go at a slow pace; at his current speed, it wouldn't be long before he arrived back in the Leaf Village. The smell of burning wood and dirt was almost suffocating him now. Death loomed in the night breeze, thick and fat with disquiet.

But he had to keep going. A girl's life depended on him, though he hadn't the faintest idea of what exactly he could do. It might already be too late…more than half of the village seemed eaten by fire.

Choking on smoke, Kankuro finally arrived at the half-burnt gates of Konoha.

* * *

Wading in pools of their own blood, the three shinobi were motionless. Flies, drawn by promise of a free meal, started to swarm nearby.

A finger inched up, then a hand. Now one arm was moving, an impossible feat considering all of the men were clearly dead from Kankuro's counterattack.

One by one, they rose off the ground, lumbering like animated corpses. A groan slipped past ruddy lips, slowly transforming back into something resembling human speech. Before long, the "dead" men were conversing amongst one another, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Didn't think it would have been so easy, right?" the red-haired shinobi spoke with some difficulty, cracking his neck and shoulders. The snapping sounds echoed in the still evening air.

The other two nodded, and then suddenly the outlines of their bodies fizzled like the edges of a mirage. They flickered in and out of sight, and soon they completely disappeared. In their place, a single figure emerged.

She placed a single hand underneath her thin, elegant chin, turning her eyes back to the combusting village, literally living up to its name as the "Fire Country". Delight was alive on her face, as if this were all fun to her. Obviously, the woman had a sorely skewed idea of what "fun" was.

Her skin was as pale as snow, a sharp contrast to her ocean-tinted hair, cut in an irregular bob. She would have been distractingly gorgeous if it weren't for her emanating cruelty, evident from the sharp angles of her face and eyes, right down to way she stood, tall and stiff like some statue. Thinking of the puppet-master Kankuro, of his blind ambition and pathetic desire to save Iwa's failed experiment, she clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Now it's only a matter of time, my love," the woman purred coolly, and like before her body dematerialized from sight, vanishing into nothingness.

* * *

The idea of fighting 40 or so Konoha soldiers bare-handed was so ridiculous it bordered on lunacy. They came from all directions possible, all of them staring uneasily at a girl's hunkered form. None of them seem too sure of the battle; how could they be, seeing the mounting pile of bodies around the lone enemy?

Hyun-su was a vision of madness, covered head to toe in ashes and blood. Fire surrounded her just like the shinobi did, the red and orange flames reflecting in her equally crimson eyes. She could have just as easily been a demon from some ancient, dark time, her flesh caked with red. Her eyes moved erratically, and as a whole, she was not as composed or lifeless as she had been at first, but was now acting out of something akin to fear or desperation, her survival response finally activating. Once or twice Hyun-su fell to all fours, clawing at the ground, then scratching at her own face.

Her bizarre behavior puzzled her attackers, who were not at all certain how to approach. They all looked at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. One of the shinobi, a tall muscular ANBU cloaked in black, had been pursuing his target for near-on half an hour, and was growing tired of the girl's unpredictability. One moment she was stoic, focused and a terrible foe on the battlefield, tearing through nearly 10 ANBU like a bear mauling unsuspecting prey. But then the ferocity would subside immediately, and she would turn as fretful as a child, cowering away from him and his remaining men.

"What do we do, sir? Attack?" one of his colleagues spoke with a waver, always with one eye on Hyun-su. They'd just been caught off-guard again, and she'd downed 6 of his friends, gutting them with just her nails. Her skin glistened with their innards. He choked back on his fear.

The ANBU shook his head wearily. "No. I have orders directly from the Hokage to capture her alive and return her to the palace safely. She could be used as a bargaining chip against the enemy." Taking out his katana, he struck up his courage and advanced on Hyun-su. Flicking it in the air, the squad captain lifted his fingers in a jutsu sign. A rumble sounded from deep within the earth, a growl that was growing steadily. Just then, an innumerous amount of strong vines burst free from the dirt, quickly making their way around Hyun-su's arms and legs.

As he'd expected, the girl instantly reacted with panic, letting out a short scream of terror as the summoned tendrils wrapped tight. She tried to tug herself free, but her strength was no where to be found, and she could only gasp as the leafy ropes began to ensnare her throat and mouth, trying to incapacitate her.

_She'll change any second now_, the ANBU strategized, motioning for his men to get ready. Perhaps if there was still some small kind of mercy in this world, she would pass out before going berserk again. He had to hope for a lucky break, what with all the casualties his group had already suffered.

It came just as expected, and even then the men were still in shock. "Watch it!" he shouted, dashing forward with blade at his side.

Without even seeming to try, Hyun-su shrugged off the vines as if they'd been made of wet paper. Her screams changed from those of dread to an unearthly howl, one that ripped into the very cores of the men. Some of them staggered to the ground, dropping their weapons in the process. With her characteristic agility, Hyun-su leaped at the first soldier her claws could find, and she immediately began to tear him apart limb from limb. Blood spurted from his jugular as teeth clamped down on neck. It was a horrific sight, this harmless-looking girl transforming into such monster.

"_NO!_" the leader yelled, not quite sure how she'd managed to kill another man so quickly. She moved with so much speed, and without using a jutsu to boot; it was an insult to both the ANBU and Konoha that a single entity could command so much power.

Hyun-su tossed aside another dead shinobi, spitting the flesh from his neck. The cloaked man was almost on her, and yet she didn't even appear worried. Instead, she casually strode to the side just as he would have struck, taking his hands into her own. Twisting him around, she pulled his arms in front of his chest in opposite directions. Her grip was so tight that it forced him to release his weapon, his palms white from the pressure. With another forceful jerk, a loud _POP!_ sounded, signaling that she'd dislocated both of his shoulders. He bellowed in pain. Adding his enfeebled body to her collection, Hyun-su's eyes picked up another enemy, coming in hot and fast.

A blizzard of kunai, morning-stars and shuriken fell like rain all around Hyun-su, and even with her enhanced speed it took all her resourcefulness to dodge the metal hail. Somersaulting away, the ash-haired kunoichi looked to the sky for the source of the onslaught, only to find another girl, no older than she was, plummeting down.

With a painful kick, Hyun-su was unexpectedly flung to the side. It was the first time since Sakura's uppercut that she'd been dealt any kind of physical damage. Shaking away the ache, Hyun-su regarded her new opponent with intense curiosity as she stood up.

The young kunoichi landed mere feet away from Hyun-su, poised and confident. Her black pants were already torn in several places from a previous bout, as was her less-than-spotless blouse. One of the buns in her hair was unraveling, bits and pieces falling about her smudged face.

Hyun-su's mind struggled with itself…she knew this woman somehow, but where? Mumbling under her breath, Hyun-su mind-controlled body seemed to fight with memories recently acquired, and she stumbled on an invisible wire.

"I won't be caught off-guard by your cheap tricks, witch," the brown-haired girl yelled, yanking out a cache of razor-sharp kunai. "Prepare to die!"

The battle cry fell on deaf ears. Hyun-su's face had once again gone vacant, just like before. Her arms were limp and at her sides. And in her eyes…that familiar emptiness that had caused Sakura so much grief, like two empty voids inhabiting her face. But from deep within, in the only safe and warm part of her heart, a voice started to surface.

_I've been ordered to protect you...keep you from the bad guys._

Something pushed Hyun-su back, and at first she thought it might have been the wind. Flitting her eyes, her thin brows moved higher onto her forehead, and for the first time since the festival's start, it seemed as if the cycle of lion and lamb had finally been shattered. Then, a faint gasp escaped chapped and fire-blistered lips, and Hyun-su once again felt firm pressure slamming into her chest.

_Hyun-su…You have to believe me that this time, I'm not going to let anything harm you._

Like a hawk's talons, three kunai stuck straight into Hyun-su's body, like darts on a target. One was pierced so close to her heart that she was surprised that she was still able to stand, much less breathe.

"No…no _no!_" Hyun-su croaked out, in so much shock that she didn't even attempt to pull the weapons free. "I don't…I don't understand…"

Her voice sounded strange in her own ears, as if someone else were speaking to her instead. She searched desperately for the source, and instead found the other girl's fists launching straight towards her face.

_**YAAH!**_

Hyun-su brought her hands up in the nick of time, though it was a weak block. She was forced back onto the ground, body finally registering all of the throbbing hurt and mental exhaustion. Blood, her own blood this time, sprouted fresh and readily from her wounds. The scent of it awakened her numb senses. The red-eyed girl looked up at her confident adversary. An intense wave of déjà vu washed over her, just as crippling as the pain. Her brain was pounding, fighting to sort illusion from truth, the fog lifting slowly.

"I…I can't do this…" she whispered faintly.

Whipping her closed fist around, the feisty girl racked Hyun-su with a spinning back knuckle. "Just shut up and _fight!_ This is what I've been waiting for!" Her voice was filled with regret brought on by shame. And it was then that Hyun-su finally remembered the girl's voice.

Clarity, precious and rare, filtered into all parts of Hyun-su. She bat her lids again, as if to push out the final vestiges of the mind-control jutsu. Her fingers moved fully by her whims; she tested them by grabbing one of the blades. With a pain-wracked tug she wrenched it out, wincing slightly. Another gush of blood followed.

So much pain…and yet it felt so good to be able to feel all of it. Her entire body winced, shaking uncontrollably.

"Ten…ten…" she found her voice again, and knew that it was her own. Legs responding now, the bloodied kunoichi slowly drug herself back up onto both her feet. "I…I can't fight…"

The girl sniffed in distaste. "You think it's that easy, do you?" she asked bitterly, words like acid. Her eyes were bright and alert, they had none of the dullness that Hyun-su's contained. "Come into our village, spy on our leader, and then torch our homes? You think you can just admit defeat like that?" Tenten's anger bristled like thorns.

It was like Tenten had spent weeks preparing for this moment, slaving to hone her techniques so that she could take down Hyun-su. Every movement, from a slash to a punch, was done with a technical accuracy that far exceeded her normal skill-level. At first, it was all Hyun-su could do to just dodge and parry. Her limbs answered her mind's call, but it wouldn't be enough if she couldn't counterattack as well. A glancing strike caught her temple, and she buckled backwards.

With an inopportune pang of jealously, Hyun-su realized that Kankuro had a thing for dangerous women. Ignoring the additional pain in her skull, the barely kimono-clad girl pushed off of the ground, back-flipping away as Tenten summoned a massive spiked mace. The barbed head plunged with a deafening thud in the exact spot Hyun-su's feet had been. Hyun-su knew it would take a few more seconds for Tenten to lift the mace; she calculated hastily, knew this was her only shot. Finding her balance, Hyun-su kicked sharply into Tenten's hands with her left foot. She felt the definitive crunch of bone followed by an anguished cry. Drawing up her other leg, she whacked the side of her right foot into Tenten's jaw, sending her flying.

There was just no comparison in Taijutsu between the two girls. Even with her marked improvements, Tenten was still too reliant on her weapons. Now, with her hands broken, she was sorely limited in both strength and options. Choking on her own spit, Tenten stared up from her spot in the dirt. Her face flushed with resentment, both at Hyun-su and at her own inabilities. Tears trembled dangerously close to the corners of her eyes.

"Don't cry…this is just another battle, be glad you're not dead," Hyun-su advised slowly, not a trace of hate in her. For some reason, she knew that Tenten had played an instrumental role in freeing her. Not killing her was the _least_ she could do. "We have to get out of here…we need to find Ka-"

Tenten strained her eyes against the abrupt column of gas that cut of Hyun-su. The vapors overpowered even those of the fire. With a wheezing cry, the brown-haired girl called out into the gas. "_Hyun-su! Where are you?_" Her voice only carried a bit, stunted by the smoky wall.

A wind blew by, pushing away the miasma. Horror-struck, Tenten saw only the Konoha soldiers that were still alive, many of them running away from the chaos. The ash-haired Hyun-su was frustratingly gone. Pounding the ground, she was instantly reminded of the condition of her broken hands, and she flinched. "God…this sucks so much…" she murmured to the empty space in front of her. Her hair had loosened from their ties completely, and thin waves of sweaty brown strands were messily pooling over her shoulders. Realizing that her hands weren't going to heal themselves, Tenten began to search for the nearest medic station. There were so few left, many of them dead or sent back to the hospital to treat the numerous wounded.

Her frown told a million feelings, as did the troubled look in her serious eyes. Skipping back a step, the kunoichi pressed her injured hands to her chest carefully. Moving past another burning house, the roof collapsing as soon as she had made clearance, Tenten had to gasp for air amidst the intensifying wreckage. It was hard to believe that any of this was actually happening. To be fair, Konoha had survived its share of calamities, but none of that made _this one_ any more sufferable.

She turned past a throng of small children, led by three or four Chuunin. Their terrified faces cut into Tenten's heart. How many children had already been wasted, how many more would be claimed before the night was over? Her feet urged her to move faster, but time itself seemed to slow down to a glacial rate as she stared at those kids. They would never forget what happened, and it would shape the rest of their lives. There would be scars for sure, and more than a few of them on the inside, Tenten realized with a teary-eyed glance.

A white figure leaped down in front of her, and Tenten almost screamed. A pair of broad hands caught her by the shoulders, and it took her a moment to notice Neji's white stare. He immediately saw her maimed hands, and knew at once that things had gone from bad to worse to horrible.

"Where is she?" he asked with his typical shortness. A bit put-off by his lack of concern, Tenten grunted and looked away from her boyfriend. He saw the signs and softened his tone. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…just need to find a medic-nin…" Tenten's heart lightened at his words. "Hyun-su…I have no idea. Someone created a diversion after she did _this_," she continued, gesturing to her wounds. It still stung, to be defeated with such relative ease. Hyun-su had been exhausted, wounded, and depleted of chakra, and yet she'd tossed her aside like a rag-doll. The memory of her disgraceful match with Temari was instantly recalled.

"Then we have to regroup with Tsunade. She and Sakura have joined with the rest of Konoha's forces in the main square. Iwa's assault it strongest there." Neji looked past Tenten to the large bonfire in the middle of his village. It roared higher than a mountain, burning with twice the strength of the sun. It was unsettling to see him so nervous, Tenten thought as she started to move. When Neji saw that she intended to follow him, he put a hand out. "No, you must go find help. Your injuries will make you usele-" he stopped, and then chose his words with a little more care. "They won't let you fight as well as you could. If they can repair your hands in time, meet me in the square. We need everyone and anyone."

She wanted to protest with her usual plucky defiance. But it was hard to argue with Neji, no matter what they were talking about. "Alright…but promise me you'll be okay when I get there," she said at last.

Neji eyed her warily. He wasn't normally optimistic, not when he knew, with or without his Byakugan, the tide of battle. He'd seen the bodies, the destruction that had already leveled Konoha. "I will try. Please hurry…for me."

"Neji…" whispered Tenten, not at all expecting him to say that. She leaned into him briefly, smelling his distinct aroma of strong tea and the river. She dedicated it to memory.

They'd delayed long enough. Neji turned away and strode off towards the heart of the fire, leaving Tenten behind. She watched as he became a small dot, blipping out of sight, and then dashed away as well, though in a slightly different direction. As she ran, she promised herself three things. One, that she _would_ see Neji again. Secondly, the ones responsible for the carnage were going to wish they'd never set foot in Konoha. And finally, gritting her teeth as she thought,

_I am never going to lose to Hyun-su **ever** again. _


	22. Neverender

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Kishimoto's shinobi, but I do own Hyun-su.

Also, as the storyline in the actual manga has accelerated faster than I could write this humble fanfiction, there will be notable differences between two.

**Altered Carbon** – chapter 22

The news from Neji's report had been devastating, abnormally so considering the current situation in Konoha. Hundreds dead, even more missing, with the numbers stretching higher with every second. And then of course Hyun-su was missing. That gem of info

had almost given Tsunade an aneurism.

"What do you mean she just _vanished?_ Nearly 50 soldiers and you still couldn't contain her?" Tsunade roared at no one in particular, finding it difficult to single out just one of her shinobi. Her rage, directionless and raw, burst forth from her seams, making her face red, though the still-raging fires were probably also to blame.

So far, they'd somehow managed to douse the flames on many of the communal sectors of Konoha, contain it in to just the main square, where it rollicked and rolled like a caged dragon. Its fiery tendrils snapped at whomever foolishly drew too close.

Naruto, standing but a few feet away from Tsunade, grunted. "Its not that easy. The returning men…they said she is a demon," he recounted, his voice carrying none of his characteristic humor.

Placing hands on hips, Tsunade didn't need to hear all of this again. She knew damn well what had happened back near the market row. She caused it. She allowed Hyun-su to remain in the village. She had overlooked the control-ninjutsu placed on the girl's mind. She had let her people celebrate out in the open night, drunken and loitering about like aimless cattle primed for the slaughter.

For a moment Tsunade let her mind slip back to somewhat simpler times. Deep memories echoed within her. She asked herself what _Jiraiya_ would have done, that old, perverted hermit who had saved her ass more times than she could count. Sniffing back a tear, the Hokage knew she couldn't rely on spirits and ghosts for guidance, even in their crazy, upside-down world.

"Naruto…I need to find Hyun-su, and as fast as possible. Have you seen Kakashi?" Tsunade said, eyes darkening. None of them had seen the infamous copy-ninja recently, and her heart stopped at the thought of him having perished in battle.

Sakura chimed in quickly. "He was spotted assisting in the evacuation…several remnant Iwa troops were trying to pick off the civilians."

Tsunade allowed herself the courtesy to breathe. She still had another ace up her sleeve. At this point, Kakashi was probably her most able-bodied soldier, especially since the deaths of one of the legendary Sannin and Sarutobi Asuma. She would have great need of his tracking-dogs in order to find the lost ashen-haired menace.

"Good. I'll send a message to retrieve him and bring him back here. We need to recoup ourselves and see what advantages we may have over the enemy at this point," Tsunade detailed her strategy.

"But what about the evacuation?" Sakura reminded her, looking back towards the other corners of the village gravely. "We need to ensure that the people that can still walk are sent into the forest with able-bodied guards."

"I know this," Tsunade returned, both irritated and satisfied with her protégé. She would make a fine leader one day, if she would only realize her abilities and not let herself be outshined by Naruto. Pushing her sweaty hair out of her eyes, the Hokage looked at the small cluster of shinobi behind her. "Neji, take Shino and Hinata out to the western exit. Use Byakugan to survey the area and Kikaichu to make sure any straggling enemies don't slip in."

Neji's face was stiff, hard to read. From a short distance away, Sakura could tell that something was bothering him, though she'd never guessed what. "As you command, Hokage-sama." His tone was as rigid as his expression. Nodding to his close relation and her bug-infested teammate, the Hyuuga leapt away noiselessly. The flowing cloth of his outfit soared behind him as he left, making it appear as if were floating on the smoky atmosphere.

"Granny…who is left to help us?" Naruto asked, punching his open palm. He was eager to reenter the fray, though his heart sank at the thought of the girl, Hyun-su.

He's seen it, just as Sakura had. That blank stare that immediately reminded him of his lost friend and rival. He had few happy memories of Uchiha Sasuke, just a faint warm glow, maybe the barest traces of a smile.

With a cough of ashy air, Tsunade brought him back. "Rock Lee, Kiba, and Ino are all at the eastern exit, keeping out the rest of the Iwa Shinobi. I have no idea where Shikamaru is and Choji unfortunately is not in Konoha," she rattled off the list of familiar names. "I really need Kakash-"

_**FWOOOM!**_

The nearby explosion was catastrophically loud that at first Tsunade wasn't sure if they'd survived the blast at all. Pieces of concrete, wood and plaster cycloned around them like paper, bashing into already fragmented buildings, carving deep holes into the earth when they crashed down. Several times, the Konoha shinobi had to dodge quickly, or risk being bashed into.

"No…no no no…." Tsunade spoke breathlessly, limbs numb with delayed shock. Her hair was matted into thick knots, twisting from the aftershock of what must have been an undetected gas leak. "This cannot be happening…"

The resulting fire was larger and fiercer than any so far, and the sheer color of it was causing physical pain. Thick, undulating swells of heat pulsated from the center of the inferno, sucking in all that stood in its path. Its circumference increasing with every second, Tsunade motioned for her shinobi to move away, eyes scanning for any citizens that may have been struck head-on by the blast. Thankfully, through some divine luck that she'd up to this point been lacking, the Hokage did not spot any stragglers.

"God…I'd feared the worst…" Sakura muttered to her friends, sharing Tsunade's concern. But she knew as well as her master that even if no one had been hurt now, if they didn't find a way to smother the flames, they might as well start throwing civilians into the blaze like fodder. Her eyes seared from the intense, concentrated heat, and her skin felt as though it were being burned off, but she had to remain focused.

Naruto cursed, stamping his sandaled feet. "What do we do now? There's no way we can put this damn fire out!" Exasperated, Naruto wished he'd a better command over water jutsu. A smaller, though just as lethal, explosion went off, and suddenly the entire earth began to rumble. "What now?"

Tsunade had no answer for the mouthy orange blur, just a million blurry thoughts crowding out the inside of her head. The foreboding tremble was starting to strengthen, the growl of the planet's core lurching into a vicious howl. Loosing her footing on the shifting soil, Tsunade stumbled backwards to avoid falling into the rift. It was small, but at this point, she couldn't risk anything, not even a twisted ankle.

It was then, without warning, that the building behind her began to tip. It creaked, crumpled, the sound of it like a hundred agonizing screams. To her left, she heard Sakura yelp with surprise. They were all pinned by their fear, but Tsunade knew she had to react. She punched to the sky just as the hard brick was about to collide into them, and her fist busted clean through, a shower of harmless pebbles and broken cement tumbling down.

_Close one…_Tsunade thought, unclasping her fist. It throbbed dully, a painful reminder of her age. "Naruto, Sakura, are you okay?" Her voice was raspy and tired. Choking again, her eyes scanned the mounting rubble.

A cough from close by. Tsunade spun around to see Naruto picking the pink-haired, weary looking Sakura off the ground. A support beam had somehow lodged free from the rest of the house, smashing into her backside. She appeared winded, with a red mark on her shoulder, but none the worse for wear. Her outfit, was however in horrid condition, completely shredded by the splinters of wood and chipped rock. Sensing its uselessless, Sakura tore off the sad vestiges of her kimono's sleeves, tossing them like rags. Doing the same to the hemline, so that it was cut just above her knees, she kicked away the cloth, testing the newfound freedom her "tailoring" allowed.

All three shinobi turned their eyes back to the fire, which had lost none of its potency in the excitement of 5 seconds ago. Like a creature it shambled towards them, its "claws" raking the sky.

"We have to do _something_…" beginning to feel hopeless, Tsunade searched the faces of her two underlings, and was struck by what she saw. They avoided her gaze, with both mouths open. It was if they were stuck in a trance, and Tsunade found herself frustrated by their childish staring. "What's wrong with you!"

"Tsunade…look!" Sakura cried, finger jabbing earnestly into the sky. Hope, something not seen in a long time, beamed from every corner of her face.

She followed the direction Sakura was pointing, and at first couldn't tell what had the young medic-nin's attention. It was just the same abyss of flame and night sky, that looming monster that was destroying her village brick-by-brick.

But a sudden vibration in the air caught her off-guard, a buzzing in her ears that she almost took to be a swarm of Shino's bugs. Eyes widening to their limits, Tsunade suddenly saw what had Sakura so elated.

A sandstorm was rolling over the tower of fiery madness, pushing it back and away from Tsunade, Naruto and Sakura. The desert mist devoured the pyre like a greedy animal, snuffing it out as quickly as any water spout could, eating away at the brimming red-hot tongues. From atop to cloud, Gaara appeared, dressed in his battle-garments, his trademark sand pouring endlessly from his gourd. His hands motioned strongly, fingers strapped and veiny, and the sandstorm doubled its efforts. Like a sculptor molded clay, he compelled the sand to move at his will, shape itself into a globe which encircled the dwindling blaze. Shrinking it, closing his fingers into tightened fists, the Kazekage suffocated the flames like a person turned off a light-switch.

He rode the chariot of sand all the way down to Tsunade, face as vacant as ever. "Tsunade…I'm sorry we've arrived so late," he admitted ruefully, aware that his rescue had been at the last dire second.

"Just be glad there was something left to save, Gaara-sama," Tsunade returned, the tips of her lips twitching into a bare-boned smile. There was hardly any energy left in her to grin. Her very soul echoed with fatigue.

Two more shinobi materialized beside Gaara, one of them wiping sand from her golden bangs. "Be even more glad that Shikamaru told us where you were," Temari remarked, just as the shadow-wielder _harrumphed_. "If it wasn't for him, we probably would not have made it in time."

Tsunade nodded graciously at the shadow-wielder, now understanding his absence. He'd probably calculated that Gaara's sand was the key to saving Konoha from a death-by-flame. "Good job, Shikamaru. Now we can redouble our efforts into finding the Tsuchikage."

Gaara's face moved into a strange frown. "He's really here?" he said incredulously. The red-haired Kazekage reclosed the top to his gourd, having collected the last of his sand. He desperately hoped he wouldn't have to use it again anytime soon, not to that extent.

"Yes, and if we are to stop this insanity, we must locate his damn hide and force him to yield," Tsunade said with a scowl. "I'd bet anything that wherever Hyun-su, the Tsuchikage can't be too far behind."

"Oooh! You're a bright one, aren't you?" a sarcastic voice said from nowhere and everywhere. "And I thought the Nara-boy was the brains behind the whole operation…guess wonders will never cease!"

Tsunade turned in four directions, though try as she might could find no one except her allies. Likewise, Gaara and Temari both readied their respective weapons. The raccoon-eyed shinobi was unsure if he possessed the chakra to summon his full array of sand jutsu, but there was no time for uncertainty. He would risk life and limb to protect his friends, for he too was to blame for Konoha's misfortune.

Slow footsteps called out to them, casual and without worry, not how someone would usually move through a wasted village nearly ground to its very foundations.

With a _tsk-tsk_ sound, the body of a slender, middle-aged person strode uncaringly into view. A pair of thin-framed glasses hid her eyes, which would have shown with an unearthly blue glow, but there was nothing that could hide her cruel smile shining on her pale, beautiful face. She clapped her hands mockingly at Tsunade, and spoke, "Its too bad you won't ever find him, at least not before we've reclaimed what's rightfully ours…"

"Who are you, she-devil?" Tsunade scorned, moving to greet this newcomer with a swinging, chakra-imbued fist. Her eyes flashed with a bristling anger that would have made most humans quake in their sandals. But this one, she was different, and simply dismissed the look with a shake of her head.

"Not so fast. Don't want to go spoiling all the fun, hm?" the woman giggled, flicking a hand through choppy, aquamarine locks of hair. Tipping her head to the side, she spoke to Gaara this time. "Especially when you're big brother is absent. Or is he?"

Gaara was intimidated by the strange woman. "My brother is no longer here. So sorry that we're all you have left to play with. You're asking a lot of questions, now give us some answers."

Laughter erupted from the woman's throat, but immediately Gaara commanded his sand to filter back into the air. Her face turned serious for the first time. The sand glowed with a faint light. "Now, now, we don't want to be causing a ruckus over a few little bonfires, do we?"

Another question. Gaara arched his brow and urged his sand forward, becoming more and more agitated. "What are you getting at? What do you know about Hyun-su and my brother? Where is the Tsuchikage?"

She kicked at the sand experimentally, testing its strength. It kept on with its increasing pursuit. Knowing fully well her pathetic limits in battle, the woman stepped away. "Oh, you'll have all the answers soon enough, cutie-pie," she put up a front, though a glossy veil of sweat was starting to form on her skin. "First off, I wouldn't be too sure about Kankuro. The last time I saw him…which wasn't long ago, let me tell you…he was charging back here like some love-sick fool," she skirted around the sand, avoiding its unnerving reach.

"That's impossible. I gave him direct orders to leave!" Gaara's voice pitched higher. It was rare for him to yell, but it was never to be taken lightly.

"Then I assume you've never felt _love_ have you? Strange since you've got it plastered all over your face," the woman gloated, still with one eye on the sand. "Oh, and I forgot to mention, I know exactly where he is."

Temari was the one to speak this time, not at all entertained with this conversation. "Tell me where he is or I'll rip your face off!" The bitch was toying with the wrong siblings. She anticipated the woman's next steps and leapt towards her, fan already expanded to its full-size. Pointing its razor-sharp edges at her enemy's neck, Temari bore down on her, her pearly-white teeth crushing together.

"Temari!" Shikamaru called out, but not before the pony-tailed girl slashed down. Her face contorted with alarm, however, when the woman fizzled in and out like a mirage from the desert. The tip of her fan hit the ground with a _clank_.

"How did you-" she gasped, pulling away just as the crafty woman lunged into her, kunai raised. Temari tucked herself into a somersault and vaulted back to Shikamaru. "What just happened?"

Before he could answer, the woman phased again, this time appearing further away, from where she'd come from. It was clear from the heaving of her chest that she was not a fighter, and had never been trained to dodge an attack like Temari's. "You're good, I'll give you that much. Maybe you just might stand a chance."

"Stop being so fucking cryptic!" Temari bellowed, stepping forward to chase after the woman. Shikamaru latched onto her before she could get too far.

"It's no use…she's using some kind of advanced Genjutsu…she's projecting an image of herself," he was finally able to explain. Rubbing his temples, Shikamaru pressed his thumb affectionately into the fan-user's arm. He could sense her frustration, her desperate need to know where Kankuro was. "More than likely, she can't harm us anyway, and she knows that. Avoiding Gaara's sand was just a way to trick us into believing she was actually here."

"So you _are_ the brains…what a good-boy you are!" she smiled sweetly, speaking in that same low, intoxicating voice. Waving her fingers, the nameless female blew a kiss towards Shikamaru. "I've stalled you enough. I'm sure by now we've located the puppet as well as the beast…thank you for playing with me!"

And with that she vanished again, this time for good.

Utter silence. The space where the woman had just been standing was black as pitch, and Temari felt a drop of sweat trickle down her spine.

He'd been quiet this entire time, but Naruto had finally collected his wits enough to finally break the silence. "This can't be good, right?"

Aching beside him, Sakura tried to stand-up straight, but the pain in her shoulders kept her at a hunch. She grimaced at her friend's dull-wittedness. "No, Naruto, this isn't good at all."

"She's right…I don't think that wench was lying about Kankuro," Shikamaru professed, hands on his hips. He was still looking at Temari, who was too transfixed with worry to even recognize his own. She stared at the empty air in front of her obsessively, as if she could will the woman back into existence. "Temari…it's going to be okay, we'll find Kankuro."

"If she was speaking the truth," Gaara interjected, "then Kankuro is probably in trouble."

"When is that fool _not_ in trouble?" Tsunade said, rolling her blue eyes tiredly. She then made a smile, a rueful one. "I'm sorry, Gaara…"

The Kazekage shrugged. "Why apologize when you're correct…my brother has an affinity for hazardous situations, does he not?" he grumbled. Once again pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled for what seemed an eternity. "Sakura," he said, catching the kunoichi unaware.

"Y-yes, Kazekage-sama?" she responded in a breathy voice. Tsunade gave a snort of disapproval. This was no time for stuttering and ill-placed shows of timidness.

Gaara shook his head. "You can do away with the formalities. I need you to tell me when you last saw Hyun-su, and where she might be now."

Nodding, Sakura was about to speak when Tsunade put her hand out. Her mouth closed tight immediately.

"Hyuuga Neji saw her after Sakura, somewhere near the northwestern wall of Konoha. According to him, Tenten had engaged her in battle, but lost sight of her…it seemed to her that she'd been teleported away somehow," Tsunade said, fixing Gaara with a cold stare. "Also, it seemed that somehow, the jutsu that was being used to control her had somehow become disarmed. I'm not sure if it was because of Tenten's attacks or by another means."

Taking in this new knowledge, Gaara turned to his sister with a sliver of hopeful anticipation. "Temari, you and Shikamaru should go in search of Kankuro…"

"Not so fast!" Naruto chimed in, feeling much too left out by this point. "I'm not just going to sit back and relax. Kankuro is my friend…plus, I can use my _kage bunshin no jutsu_ to increase our search are!"

The Kazekage was stunned by the Jinchuriki's skillful plan. Risking a smile, more like a lopsided smirk, he could feel his normally icy resolve dissolving. It wasn't like he could perpetually hide his emotions forever; Kankuro was annoying, loud and crass, but he was also his _brother_. There was nothing he wouldn't do to ensure he returned safely to Sunagakure.

_Nothing_.

"Alright then, I believe this should be our plan then," Shikamaru, ever the elite strategist, cleared his throat. Crouching down, he used the tip of one of his kunai to draw a simplistic map of Konoha into the dirt. "Gaara and Tsunade will remain here with Sakura. I can tell just by the smell that there are bound to be more gas-leaks from the wreckage, as well as more wounded."

Though she didn't like the fact that she was basically being ordered around by someone beneath her station, Tsunade was careful not to disagree with any of Shikamaru's plans. Since the failed mission to rescue the Uchiha-betrayer, he had poured himself into being a leader. It also helped that he had a certain stubborn suna-kunoichi bickering at him constantly.

She nodded with Gaara, who gazed at her trustingly. It would be the first time they'd worked together so closely, but with so much at risk, even a shred of doubt could ruin everything.

Shikamaru drew an "X" over three sites near the Hokage's mansion. "Naruto, you will send your shadow clones to these points in the village. Scout for any signs of increased Iwa guards. I'm guessing that whatever soldiers they have left, they're using them to guard their exact location."

"You've got it!" Naruto said with gusto, pumping his fist into the air enthusiastically. "I'll find them in no time!"

"And finally, Temari will start a sweeping rotation of the village," Shikamaru finished, drawing a long track around the village. He looked at Temari uneasily, realizing that she would rather be searching with Naruto. "I know what you're thinking, but you can use your fan to cover the air, look for something that Naruto might miss on the ground."

She didn't want to admit it, not given the sinking desperation in her heart, but the shadow-wielder was right, yet again. She bit her lip anxiously. "What about you?"

Standing up from his diagram in the soil, Shikamaru put away his kunai. "I'll rejoin Rock lee's group at the eastern exit, see how they're holding up, and then check with Neji. The others will need to know what's going on. Also, they can keep an eye out for our blue-haired _friend_."

Temari recoiled at the thought of the mysterious woman. Oh, how she had wanted to split her neck open! She grabbed her fan and with a flick of her hands it whooshed open. In a matter of seconds she was air-born, rising steadily on the wind currents. If she was lucky, and she damn-well hoped she would be, perhaps there would be a chance to show that witch how deadly kunoichi from Sunagakure could be.

"If you find anything, send a shadow clone back to the main square to inform Tsunade and Gaara," Shikamaru added, noting the looks of seriousness on both Temari and Naruto's faces. He nodded at the two of them, his eyes connecting with the golden-haired girl's. It hurt him to let her go on her own, wished that there was some way their abilities could be used in tandem. Unfortunately, his skills were more of the ambush-sort, and this was a search-and-rescue mission. Without wasting too much time, he clasped her hand, and gave it a small kiss. From beneath the shield of anger and frustration on her face, Shikamaru knew she was blushing. "I'll see you soon."

Naruto's hand moved in a flurry, hands creating a sequence of exact gestures. A multitude of clouds poofed around him, and he was soon flanked on all sides by a myriad of identical twins. Mirroring each other's toothy grin's, they cried out in a sort of collective echo, "Okay…lets go!"


	23. The Final Cut

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto, save Hyun-su.

Also, as the manga/anime have progressed far beyond this fanfiction, expect several discrepancies to arise.

**Altered Carbon – **chapter 23

He felt himself being led…

No…his feet were sliding on the ground. Once or twice his knees would touch what could only be cold, frigid tiles. He was being _drug_ through a hallway.

Skirting on the fragile edges of consciousness, the young man was delirious with exhaustion, his eyes struggling to follow the action around him.

Hands, latex gloved and stinking of synthetics, pressed down on him. He desperately wished that everything wasn't so blurred, hazy and unformed. A pain grew in his gut, that familiar feeling of being held against his will.

_Where am…I…_

Thinking, a simply task to most, was impossible, as was speaking. With disgust, he realized that someone was pulling off his shirt. The entire room was shaking, his head was shaking, and he heard someone screaming from far away.

Fear caught hold when he realized he was listening to his own tormented cry. Firm voices yelled over him. Kankuro started to panic, but once again his own body disobeyed him. Suddenly, a pinprick into his one arm, followed by the briefest sensation of burning. His clouded brain recognized this feeling – a local anesthetic. He took a ragged, disjointed breath. Someone was placing a mask over his face at once he pitched his face aside. The momentary control startled himself.

Back and forth several voices argued, and once again a pair of hands restrained his head. Whatever little energy he'd had before, it had abandoned him. The plastic mask was slipped over his mouth and nose, his breaths uncomfortably hot beneath the clear shield.

Kankuro felt his eyes closing. Soon he was fast asleep.

* * *

He woke up with a start when someone shook his shoulder.

"Quiet," said a dominating voice.

Kankuro faltered. He couldn't remember how he'd been captured. He vaguely recollected his sprint back to the Leaf village, seeing the staggering fires. He had heard adults shouting, the rumble and crash as parts of buildings succumbed to flame. More and more of that night filtered back, sparks gushing into the air, the fires billowing out with a sound like tearing cloth. But through it had come something else. Pain, an attack…though he tried, Kankuro couldn't remember exactly how he'd been blind-sided or by whom.

He felt faint, dizzy, sick, limp. Everything was numb from head to foot. With a feeble mental charge, he attempted to summon his chakra strings. The effort was useless, only serving to tire him even more.

"You're finally awake. I was growing tired from all the waiting."

A man was peering at him. It finally dawned on Kankuro that he was seated, hands strapped behind him, ankles lashed to the chair legs. A strip of cloth was rubber around his face, gagging him.

A row of cold fingers slid down his face, dragging sharp nails along his skin.

Kankuro couldn't help it: a little cry escaped his muffled mouth, and at the same time he tensed and shivered. His cheeks burned with mortification and indignity. One by one, his senses were being drawn back to him, first his hearing, then taste. His tongue was wet with what he decided was blood, but from where it came he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Finally, he reclaimed sight, and he found that he was looking into the stoic face of a man. He was close enough to see every hair in his moustache and beard, but the man soon moved away, back towards a small table littered with scientific equipment.

Kankuro ignored the man, looked at the room he'd awoken in. It was neither huge nor small, and carried evidence that it was being used as some sort of research facility. Two long tables ran the length of the room on opposite sides, and the glass vials and specimen tubes caught whatever light there was. It came from a lone lantern, which flickered sporadically. At first thinking that he was in the Konoha hospital, he soon realized that this was unlike any room there. It was an almost private laboratory. He saw rows of pictures on all the walls, portraits of people who seemed to scowl down at him with looks of disapproval. Tucked near the wall furthest from him was a row of drapes that seemed at odds with the rest of the room's décor. It did not belong, but why was something Kankuro's mind would not allow him to ponder, not with a thundering hell of a migraine brewing inside his skull.

It was strange, but there was a quality of "home" here, that someone slept here at night. A counter off to the left was set as if awaiting guests, and the seats in front of it were not simple chairs by mahogany chairs with velvet cushions.

The older man stopped beside one of the chairs and flicked the biggest glass with a fingernail. The sound rang clearly through the room, gaining back Kankuro's undivided attention.

"They do themselves well in Konoha, don't they, Kankuro?" he asked, voice full of expressive tones and subtleties. "Affording so many luxuries onto themselves. Trinkles…baubles."

He gave a decanter a forceful _ting!_ and it crashed onto the hardwood floors, a spray of reflective glass scattering in all directions. Kankuro grimaced at the sound, doubting that there was any ally nearby to hear it. Certain that they were alone, the young shinobi looked at the man with a restrained fury.

"Why the look, young puppeteer? You act as though any of this is a surprise." The sneer on his aged, wrinkled face begged Kankuro to punch him, but all the bindings held good. "Did you really think you could have kept _our _Hyun-su a secret forever? That we wouldn't catch on to your little game with the Leaf? I must admit, I'm a touch offended by it all…"

With a sort of slinking movement, much like that of a snake or rat, the miser patrolled around Kankuro's chair, his frail hands playing with the air. It occurred to Kankuro that the he had been a powerful man, but he was well over seventy now. His face was dappled with sun spots, the hair on his head white and sparse, and at times his grin would stiffen, as if he were trying to stifle a gagging cough.

Stopping in front of him, the man bent low. He jerked up Kankuro's face so as to see him squarely. The glaucoma in his eyes caused a flutter to spread in the younger man's insides. "And now we have both pieces of the puzzle."

He let go roughly, and then tore off the gag. Kankuro bared his teeth like a wolf, snarling. "What the hell do you want with me? If you're thinking of using me as bait, you've picked the wrong piece of shit," his voice was a dark, husky growl. "My brother doesn't even know I'm here, and there's no way I'm giving you any shred of info…you might as well kill me now."

Kankuro's eyes were blood-shot and terrible, and the man regarded him with some discreet level of caution. This wasn't some chump he was dealing with, it was a shinobi of Sunagakure. They did not believe in mercy like the Leaf did, and if Kankuro found the chance to free himself, the man knew his days would be at an end. There would be no "diplomatic solution" in store for him, just a pair of hands wrapped tightly around his throat, crushing the very life out of his windpipe. He touched his adam's apple, as if to prematurely prepare himself.

"So you say. But did you know that at this very moment, they are out there," he tilted his head to the side, "looking for you. I dare say it's a bit too late on their part. But you can't say they lack spirit, am I right my dear?"

Flicking a match, the man lit another candle, for the solitary lantern only illuminated a space of five feet. He walked slowly towards the out-of-place curtain, taper in hand. Kankuro's eyes followed him in the gloom. The man's robes collected dust as he traipsed on slippered feet, gliding silently like a wraith now. With a deft motion, he cast off back the curtain. It fell free from its banister and fluttered to the ground, pooling around his feet.

Kankuro looked at the figure, also bound to a chair of their own. It was then, without warning, that the fear came. The first wave caught him as he tried to make out the person's face. It halted him stock-still and mid-breath. For a moment, then, there was only a dreadful darkness in his mind, a sense of looking into a great black pit.

Sitting there, quiet and like a corpse, was a girl, her hair glowing with the tawny fairness of a lion's coat. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and she was deeply asleep, there was no doubt about that.

He recognized Hyun-su instantly and everything was worse than before. The fear jumped at him for the second time like a great animal that had been waiting to spring. Kankuro sat terrified, shaking, feeling himself shake, and yet unable to move. He felt he must be going mad.

Meanwhile, either blindly ignoring or oblivious to Kankuro's sheer horror, the bitter old man knelt beside the young sleeping girl and smoothed the damp hair back behind her ears, slick with sweat. He gave her a kiss on her cheek. Then he did something Kankuro would have never expected. Drawing up off the ground, he looked up with sad and loving eyes, and smiled at Kankuro with a bizarre species of compassion.

"I'm sure you must know by now who I am…" he spoke softly, nearly a whisper. Moving towards one of the long tables, he picked up a vial and inspected the contents – a light greenish liquid that was slightly viscous – swirling the glass container gently. Smiling again at Kankuro's confusion, he continued. "I am the Tsuchikage, though few know me by my true name."

Sputtering angrily, Kankuro could sense his strength returning, the effects of the anesthesia wearing away. At once his fingers began to twitch, the arms in his legs and arms groaning with soreness, angry at being neglected for so long. "What are you going to do to her…" he ordered. His utter fury was like a living thing inside him; if it were any stronger he could have easily torn free through the tough ropes.

"Oh, you already know the answer to that, my friend," the Tsuchikage replied with an oily, slippery voice. "She is going to be the cornerstone for my country, our swan-song, so to speak. She will lead us into a new evolution of shinobi warfare."

He paused, looking back towards Hyun-su with those same loving eyes. "My daughter is the greatest gift I have _ever_ given Iwagakure."

The whole world seemed to shatter like the decanter. A jolt of sickness overtook Kankuro, a mouthful of pulp surged up from his stomach, splashing in the back of his throat. He gagged from the taste, but forced the bile back with a reluctant gulp.

Looking back towards Hyun-su, who was still unresponsive, and then to the Tsuchikage, Kankuro finally realized that this entire time, ever since the meeting in Sunagakure, he and his siblings had been played like chess pieces.

"Daughter…what?" he mumbled, half to himself, and half to the air around him. He was desolate, head buzzing like before but now from a sense of clarity that was too pure to be true. His body felt electric with anxiousness, watching in anguish as the Tsuchikage placed another kiss on Hyun-su, this time directly on her lips.

The elderly lord's smile turned cold, making it seem like Kankuro was now an intruder to father and child. "Yes, my only heir…she was made to be so much, and now she will finally take her rightful place by my side."

A groan came from neither men, and Kankuro's eyes immediately honed in on Hyun-su's still body. Her face twitched. The beautiful, eerie red of her eyes had become dull, as if the very life-force had been sucked from her. Tears, perhaps stored for later use, began to tumble down her pale, dry face, and Kankuro felt something so rare that his heart nearly failed. Sadness, emptiness.

"My dear, I've brought someone here to see you…" the man identified as Hyu-su's father crouched down again, holding both her hands protectively. "But you mustn't be startled…we must take great care of you in your current condition."

She seemed unresponsive, almost mute, opening and closing her mouth like a dying fish did before going belly-up. A few strange, alien sounds bubbled out of her throat. Kankuro was starting to fear that she might have some kind of brain-damage, when all of a sudden her face seized with rage. Her expression contorted quickly and violently, and she started to thrash against her own bonds.

Like a feral animal, Hyun-su hissed and tried to scratch at the man's eyes. Yowling and howling, she emanated a bottomless fury at being caged. Her eyes refused to recognize the man before her, hadn't even picked up on Kankuro's presence.

"Now, now…I knew this might happen," her father cooed apologetically. Winding back, his hand struck hard against her cruel face, as if she were nothing more than a dog needing discipline. He smiled at the noise it made, and Hyun-su immediately stopped her struggle. "There's no need for such a fuss."

Hyun-su was awestruck, refusing to budge now. Once or twice her eyes would widen, blink, and then remain closed for a long time. Peering around meekly, the young girl eventually saw the equally bound Kankuro, and her jaw went slack. She whimpered pathetically to her father, "Why…why is he here…"

The familiar, stinging smile returned to the Tsuchikage's wizened face, as if he'd hoped for this. "Because, it seems that you've lost some of your…_conditioning_. Chinatsu had worked so diligently to keep you under my control, but look at you," he spat distastefully, and went on."You're nothing more than another lacky for Konoha it seems. Have you forgotten what it meant to be a shinobi for Iwa? Why you were brought into this world?"

"I had hoped to never remember that, you bastard," Hyun-su answered shortly, eyes burning. Like Kankuro, she was testing her strength as well. Her fingers stretched and strained in the darkness of the room, skin chaffing and starting to redden. It wasn't long before her hands were covered in sweat and blood. "You will never get me to come back to Iwagakure…I will kill myself before you have the chance to breed me! Not after what you did to my mother!"

An unearthly, wheezing laugh came from the Tsuchikage, amused by his daughter's spunk. With three long strides he was back next to Kankuro, placing all his weight on the shinobi's shoulder. "But it seems our friend here has already done all the work for me!" the sarcasm in his voice dripped venom.

The puppeteer searched the faces of both Hyu-su and the Tsuchikage with the utmost care, mind racing at what must have been no less than a thousand miles per hour. It was like a terrific blow had been dealt to him, the air ripped from his chest. Then came the biggest jolt of all, and Kankuro found himself hurled altogether.

"I might have some reservations on your choice for a mate, but what can I say, it did the job, am I right, mister Kankuro?"

"What is he talking about, Hyun-su?" Kankuro managed to say amidst the chaos. Mouth dry, right down to the gums, his irises had grown so small that his eyes seemed to be all white, absent of any other color. When he found his voice again, it was small and meek. "What does he mean?"

Hyun-su's heart felt as though it might burst free from her body, it was beating so feverishly. "I…" she said, or at least she would have if her fear wasn't getting in the way. Her eyes glanced to the ground, avoiding Kankuro's nervous gaze. The corners of her lips quivered, and she finally said,

"I'm pregnant…with your child."

Time latched and stood still, mired by the quagmire.

From his seat, Kankuro could literally feel his consciousness slipping down his spine, into his legs and out through his toes. His face blanched to a sickly, greenish color, and his scalp was sodden with sweat now. Streams of it poured down the furrowed lines of his forehead, scrunched with uncertainty.

"You can't be telling the truth." Kankuro was surprised by how angry he sounded. It hadn't been intentional, but there was no point in hiding it at this point. All the cards were being spewed into his face, and he couldn't _stand_ all the secrets and revelations, not when they all somehow concerned him. "This has to be a lie…"

She saw his expression. Shame gripped Hyun-su. "It's not. Tsunade told me after I left the hospital. I have been avoiding using my special abilities because of it…" she said quietly. She took in a shuddering, deep breath, her nostrils flaring. Kankuro's anger was like a knife into her stomach, the disbelief in his eyes like bullets into her soul. "She warned me that by producing my body's natural poisons, I might accidentally begin to infuse the fetus with it…"

The Tsushikage had been standing by patiently, but he interrupted his daughter. "Thus creating a carbon copy of our precious, little Hyun-su," he said triumphantly. "I honestly couldn't have planned it better. We had designed all along to use artificial insemination as a way to duplicate the process. But there was just one little snag."

"She wouldn't do it…she would never make another being like herself. It would be giving him just what he wanted," the puppeteer uttered harshly, a thousand things jostled at his throat. Kankuro's vision was misty with resentment, and all he could feel was an immense and shattering despair. He was mad at himself not knowing of the baby now growing inside Hyun-su's belly, the baby he had helped to create. But he was even more furious at the geezer who dared to call himself a father.

Eyes squinting, the Tsuchikage sucked in air through his teeth in annoyance. "Correct. Without activating the production of poison, the child would grow up to be _normal_," he shook his head as if this were some inexcusable sin, that he and Kankuro and all other humans were the flawed ones. A moment later, though, and his voice lifted. "But with you here, Kankuro, I can finally make it all right."

The little lantern flickered and flared as a draft mysteriously entered the room, licked around the flame, and by its light Kankuro could see that the old man was drumming up his chakra.

Kankuro and Hyun-su could sense each other's horror. Flickers of light, not from any of the candles or the lantern, shot off in random directions, centering on the Tsuchikage. He moved his hands upwards, clenched, and the vectors of light swiftly focused in his closed palms. They throbbed with chakra, and Kankuro was half-tempted to believe he was manipulating the chakra to form threads in the same manner he and Hyun-su could. But this was different, stronger, and before he could think another second, a ray of light crossed the room and pierced him square in the chest. He could literally feel something icy and terrifying worm its way past the bones of his ribcage and then start to strangle his heart. He choked on the jagged pain, and a smatter blood stained his teeth.

The air was alive with energy, and through it all, Kankuro tried to find Hyun-su. He heard sounds, whispers almost, speaking to him in confused, frantic tones and chants; for some reason he could _hear_ the chakra. A heavy convulsion rocked his body, and he bent over in shock. Mind and body locked in turmoil, Kankuro looked up and saw that Hyun-su was gasping and shaking just as he was, crying aloud with more pain than she had ever felt.

"Try not to struggle, my young ones…" the Tsuchikage's voice trembled with a deep, inner strength that belied his outward appearance. He swallowed hard, as if the jutsu was becoming difficult to control. "The first part is always the hardest."

How long the pain lasted, Kankuro had no idea. But eventually is ebbed away, faster than he'd thought it could have, and then, quite suddenly and strangely, everything was calm. Like a nightmare fading with the sunrise, the excruciating sensation washed out of him, though he could still feel what seemed to be a thread of chakra strung through his heart. It was the weirdest, most unnerving thing he'd felt in a long time, like a large stitch or hook that had been left behind in his chest accidentally.

"What have you done to us," Hyun-su was the first to speak, and she had nothing but hatred in her eyes for her father, knowing that what he had done to them could only be evil.

Breathing deeply, the Tsuchikage's face darkened. "Just something I developed in my youth, a way to make sure I could always bend some stubborn branches if needed." He snapped his fingers and red, neon tracers appeared out of thin air, a rope of chakra connected Hyun-su to her father, and her father to Kankuro.

"To put it simply, I am going to make sure that Hyun-su knows her place," he continued. His voice reduced to undertones and the line between himself and Kankuro began to vibrate and throb.

In an instant the biting torture returned, and Kankuro spasmed, nearly knocking the chair and himself onto the floor. All of his muscles contracted painfully, his bones feeling as though they might snap at any second. His agonizing screams were tearing into Hyun-su as well. His suffering was as clear to her as glass, his face contorted by the trauma of her father's pitiless jutsu. When she could no longer take the sight of his endless torment, she cried out, "Please! Please stop it!"

_Success,_ the vindictive lord thought was a firm sense of satisfaction. He dismissed the charge, and Kankuro sunk into the chair. "Now I think you begin to understand this jutsu. It connects our hearts, and allows me to project electrically charged chakra through these self-made strands. Unfortunately for Kankuro, he has no means to reverse the effect. However, you, Hyun-su can end his pain.

"If you trigger the poison centers in your reproductive system, I will let your beloved puppet go free."

Feebly moving his lips, Kankuro somehow found the strength to whisper, "Don't listen to him…don't do it." Lifting his head slightly, squinting from the residual effects of the jutsu, he tried to ignore the hurt coursing through his body. The power of the Tsuchikage's jutsu was otherwordly, and he was unsure if he could survive another bout.

"Hyun-su, you belong with us, with your village," the man gloated, and his eyes twinkled when Hyun-su nodded slowly.

"You promise…that he won't be hurt," the ashen-haired girl spoke tentatively. There was doubt in her mind, for she knew her father could never be fully trusted. But Kankuro could not be a victim, another person whose death had been her fault, her father's fault. The vision of her mother hit her hard, and with that she made her final decision.

"I'll do it."

Her eyes closed, mind working to clear itself. Starting the poison was like recalling a deep memory, she had to search for it, find the source. She found it and with a shiver she began to accumulate the poison in her body.

"That's my girl," the Tsuchikage said gleefully, pressing his fingertips against one another.

Her blood ran cold, as if liquid ice were being poured into her veins. The outer world melted, leaving only her most barest, primal intentions. It was a sensation of such grace, and despite herself, Hyun-su honestly had missed tapping into her raw hidden power. Though she'd been wrought with fear moments earlier, her mind was now at ease, relaxed and even like an ocean finally at rest.

Kankuro watched every flicker of her lips, every twitch of her eyelids, tried to find the words that could stop her. But he was helpless, and he hated that. His teeth dug into his dry lips, drawing blood.

But then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw something akin to hesitation flash across the Tsuchikage's face. His expression changed. Kankuro couldn't read what it was saying, but there was no doubt that he was powerfully interested. Suddenly, he lumbered forward, voice at a full roar.

"_You little __**BITCH!**_" His voice shuddered the glass vials sitting atop the tables so that they clinked against one another, and Kankuro's ears rang. As if struck by an arrow, he clutched at his chest, nails digging into the thick brocade fabric of his robes. He looked at Hyun-su with a look of guilt and fear combined, his insides filling with a deep sickness.

"How…how dare you…"

His shaking voice felt thing and weak in the air. Kankuro turned his head to Hyun-su again, and was captured by her eyes, open and alive for the first time that night. "Hyun-su…don't tell me – "

But before he could even finish his sentence, there was a cry from the Tsuchikage, the sound of his body crashing into the ground. Like energy draining from a reactor, the crimson threads that spanned between them flashed and then faded from sight. The old man was hardly able to speak for rage and shock. "Smart girl…you used the chakra strings as a way to transfer the poison into me…but it's not enough, you whore, and it surely won't save your beloved Kankuro."

"Is that so," Hyun-su answered, her own voice sounding just as frail as her fathers. "_That_ was for mother…now you can no longer use your jutsu on us."

She squirmed in her chair, for she'd felt a tight knot building in her gut and felt something wet between her legs, and then gasped.

A dense puddle of blood was flooding the seat of her chair, so thick that the cushion could not contain all of it. Her stomach flipped at the sight of it, and she trembled nervously. Hardly daring to breath – fearing that it would strengthen the flow – she squeezed her legs together, knees touching. The urge to cry swept inside of her, but she refused them, tried to find the anger she so desperately needed. For a second she looked at Kankuro, but seeing the knowing look in his eyes, the wrenching forlorn in his frown, forced her to glance away.

Grief finally overtook her, and Hyun-su could no longer defend herself. Her voice curdled from the bottom of her soul, and she gave a heart-rending sob. "I'm so sorry! Kankuro…it was the only way!" she mourned, the ache in her belly still pounding and sore. Her voice changed to a whisper. "I'm so sorry…so sorry…"

The Tsuchikage ripped himself off the ground. He heard and saw Hyun-su, nose drawn to the heavy, metallic scent of blood, and screamed, not words, just a barbaric tangle of sounds that defied the human language. He hurled himself at Kankuro, a dagger producing in one hand. The murderous intent on his face was enough to kill. Kankuro was paralyzed, exactly like a fly being trussed by a spider. He could barely focus on the knife's edge drawing closer by the second, the sound of it as it split the air into separate particles.

He heard a hiss, and past his cheek something lashed and sharply stung. Reeling his head away, the whole world grew still for a second time that night as the Tsuchikage froze mid-step.

The puppeteer blinked, dumbfound, and then there was a soft thud, and the leader of Iwagakure fell choking and gasping and dying right across Kankuro's lap. He cried in horror; that was _blood _gushing him!

Running feet, and someone hauled the dead body away and bent over him. A kunai snicked and the ties fell away one-by-one, and he tore the off, spitting.

"Kankuro! Are you okay?"

A familiar voice, but he couldn't quite place it till she stepped forward and the nearest candle light fell on her face and her gigantic fan strapped tight to her back.

"Temari!" He could have cried himself, seeing the incredibly worried face of sister glowing over him. He burst from the seat without thinking and his arms wrapped his long arms around her. It wasn't Kankuro's way to be so affectionate, but he buried his head into his sister's shoulder. "Oh god, Temari! God!"

"Ka-Kank-u-! " she stuttered and smiled at the same time, and eventually returned the hug. Her heart fluttered wildly at the contact with her brother, who was usually so reserved. Pressing away from him, her face, so composed, grew in a moment haggard and horror-struck; she's never seen anyone so white. "What's wrong?"

He looked up with a blank stare, and slowly the color faded back into his cheeks. "Hyun-su…HYUN-SU!" His voice took on a life of its own, and he dashed past his sister, who frowned at being ignored so quickly. He sprang towards the girl like a spark of lightning, and he clutched him into his chest. His heart snagged, the residual effects from the jutsu, and every stab of pain was dear to him. Digging his fingers into her hair, Kankuro whispered fiercely into her ears. "Hyun-su, I'm here, I'm here…" he cried, only releasing her cheeks in order to unknot at her binds.

Though free, the ashen-haired kunoichi was still unflinching. She couldn't speak. The humiliation she felt was an almost physical blow. Slowly, as if she half-expected him to recoil from her touch, Hyun-su draped her arms over Kankuro's shoulders, clinging to him. Dimly, she heard him speaking to her, but she couldn't even interpret his tone of voice. Bits and pieces made sense, but a fog in her head made the rest of it nonsense.

"Hyun-su?"

She finally understood him, and tilted her chin. Tugging at her hands, Kankuro urged her to stand. The disgusting smear of blood beneath her kept her put. "I…I can't get up," she said.

Kankuro got the point and bent over clumsily. His body was still numb and limp, but he'd be damned if he didn't do something. Scooping her up off the chair, ignoring how his sleeves were instantly soaked, he motioned back towards Temari. "Where are the rest of the Leaf?"

Temari had been investigating the body on the ground. When she looked up, Kankuro could tell she was upset by the shimmer in her eyes, the way her brow was fixed. "Kankuro, I don't know…but…is this…"

He grimaced vehemently. "It's the Tsuchikage…" he said, and at the same time Hyun-su spoke up and added, "He was my father."

She narrowed her eyes and said nothing. It was a double-whammy that nearly had Temari fall on her backside. Her blue eyes quivered, now profoundly afraid. Hands dug into the pockets of her uniform, and she whipped out a small communicator.

"Shikamaru, you need to get to here, and NOW."


	24. Standstill

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto, save Hyun-su.

Also, as the manga/anime have progressed far beyond this fanfiction, expect several discrepancies to arise.

**Altered Carbon – **chapter 24

Hands fisting the sheets of the cot, Hyun-su peered through the sea of faces with a wide-eyed stare. The instinctive urge to bolt was hard to resist, but noticing the shocking-pink of Sakura's fair hair sedated her better than any drug ever could. Past her friend, the contemplative face of the Hokage was striking in its seriousness.

"Lets get this started," she snapped, obviously drained.

The effort it had taken to finally subdue all of the Iwa insurgents had been monumental. Only with a legion of Narutos, coupled with Gaara's all-powerful sand and the Hyuuga's white eyes, had they finally wiped Konoha clean of the threat, left to deal with the cruel aftermath. The final death toll had not been as great as estimated, but many were still missing, trapped beneath the rubble. Several civilians reported hearing anguished cries echoing from the earth. And then there was of course the property damage, which would take months to undo. If another nation had ever hoped to conquer Tsunade's village, there would never be a more opportune moment, and it was this that troubled her the most. It had been 3 days since the invasion, but already restoration was underway; they needed to secure the village's perimeter and heal the wounded as fast as was humanly possible.

Sakura nodded her head, and pulled on a pair of white examination gloves. Her mouth tightened into something that was almost a smile. "This is going to be a little chilly," she warned, before coating Hyun-su's stomach with a thick spread of gel. It was cold indeed, and Sakura saw goose-bumps forming on the girl's arms and thighs. She shuddered, biting her lips.

"Now, just hold still." Standing beside the bed, Sakura pressed her fingers into the supple, slightly taut skin of Hyun-su's belly. Rolling into her palms, she closed her eyes, listening for the hum of chakra that would gently, safely penetrate past skin and muscle. Her jaw moved when she gulped, and for a second she seemed terribly, terrible weary.

"What is it, Sakura," Tsunade registered her expression and stepped closer. She motioned for a pair of gloves and slipped them on impatiently. Moving past Sakura's own hand, she probed with her chakra, shooting it down inside Hyun-su, waiting for the signals to bounce back. When they did, she looked away, tentative.

"You feel it too? You felt…" Stripping off the gloves and tossing them into a biohazard waste can, the younger medic-nin's voice died to a whisper, and she couldn't make herself say the rest of the words. Ears red with nervousness, Hyun-su anxiously awaited an explanation.

At first, silence, then a heavy sigh from Tsunade. She straightened her spine, pulling at the sleeves of her green jacket. "Hyun-su, I need to know exactly what happened with the Tsuchikage, what the effects of his jutsu were, and how you dismantled it."

Shivering from the gel and the strange tingle of chakra, Hyun-su's voice was rasping. "He used chakra in the same way a puppeteer uses it, connecting himself to others," she said, trying to contain the warble in her tone. _Recover, _she told herself, _Pull yourself together_.

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Go on."

From her spot on the table, Hyun-su raised to a sit. Sakura politely handed her a towel. "This was different…he told me that he had connected our hearts, and that he had control over them," she explained, her tone become patiently instructing. "After inflicting an attack on…" A hitch in her voice caused her to stall, but she recouped swiftly, "…an attack on Kankuro, I knew that the only way to break his control was to inflict enough pain, and therefore I sent my poison into through the chakra strands."

"We specifically told you to never use your poison," said Tsunade, her tone flat and demanding, also throwing her gloves away. "Though now, it seems of little consequence."

"The baby…its gone, isn't it?" Hyun-su said defeatedly. It wasn't much of a shock, and part of her was glad, relieved. There was no way she was ready to be a parent, and that wasn't even taken into considering who precisely the father was. Kankuro was impetuous, irritable and slightly irresponsible; not exactly the stuff good father's were made of. Not that _she_ was a candidate for mother-of-the-year. They were both of them parentless, only knowing their loving mothers briefly, hardly long enough to know what it took to raise a child.

Yes, this was all for the best.

But still, that nagging was in her pit, that longing to still have a tiny someone inside her. She rubbed her sides with the towel. The sacrifice had been a necessity, that was the end of it. There was no going back now.

"Whether subconscious or entirely accidentally, when you poisoned the Tsuchikage," Sakura said, refusing to use the title _father_, "some of it must have leaked through the uterine walls, loosening the fetus. Since you were not intentionally trying to filter your poison into the fetus, as he so desired you to, the shock caused a miscarriage."

There was no tone of apology, no sorrow or regret in Sakura's rationalization. She knew just as well as Hyun-su did that a child born with Hyun-su's rare gift would be a constant target by the other nations if discovered. It would never know peace, living always living in fear or on the run. No child deserved such a morbid fate.

Hyun-su tried to build a stone wall, to shield herself from the memory of all the blood shed seen, oozing from her body, rejected like a virus. The logical part of her mind knew very well that it was foolish to call the pond of cells and endometrial lining a "child", but it felt just as wrong to call it a "thing" as well. It had been her DNA, hers and Kankuro's, and nothing, no amount of scientific jargon, could convince her to simply not care.

Tsunade shook her head. Hyun-su tilted her head up, and seeing the withering look in her eyes, swallowed hard, throat bulging as she did. "That's not all that happened. When Sakura and I _looked_ inside your womb for traces of the child, we also saw that part of your fallopian tubes and uterus have been damaged."

"That's impossible, the poison isn't supposed to be able to hurt me," Hyun-su sputtered. She could no longer look at the two medic-nin, as if this information alone made them more enemy than friend.

"That's what we thought, until Tenten informed us that she'd injured your chest," Tsunade crossed her arms, bosom heaving. "The only explanation I can come up with is that one of her blades must have nicked at your heart, not only did this break the seal on the mind-control jutsu, but as you know, the only way to disable your poison mechanism is an injury to any part of the heart. When this happened, your body lost some of its influence on the poison, and was left defenseless."

"My body…" the red-eyed kunoichi said, glaring up. All her life she'd been stronger then the poison, the dictator and master. Now, with the tables turned, she felt so vulnerable that it caused tears of worry to spring from her eyes. Sakura gave her a comforting hug and offered her a tissue. In a second, Hyun-su wrapped her arms around her as well.

"We don't know yet how widespread the effect was, or if your heart can heal and allow you to safely manufacture your poison. The body is a resilient creature, Hyun-su." _And you are still alive_, was the unsaid follow-up. Letting go, Sakura went to get her a drink of water.

"In the meantime, I am recommending that you take it easy, and in no way are you to produce _any_ kind of poison, not even a trickle," Tsunade warned, bringing her face close to Hyun-su's. A hint of ferocity entered her words, meant to scare. There was no way she would jeopardize the girl's life anymore, not since using her as bait. In spite of her initial dislike for Hyun-su, the Hokage had grown gradually fond of her, in the way a person becomes attached at a lost child. Her features loosened up, the firm edge to her brow leaving.

A knock at the door caused all the women's heads to tilt. A faint, knowing smile flickered on Tsunade's pink lips. "It looks like you have a guest, Hyun-su," she uttered amusedly, gesturing to one of the standby-nurses to open the door.

_Oh…_

It was just another orderly. He looked scared half to hell, the front of his scrubs covered with blood and sick and some other things that Tsunade didn't want to identify. She had almost forgotten the current state of the hospital, crammed with patients, up to double its normal occupancy. Another sting of guilt bit into her heart, knowing that the victims could have spared their current state if only she'd seen the Tsuchikage's plot sooner. Anger flared momentarily, but luckily it died off before she could plunge her fist into the walls.

"What is it? What do you need?" she half-barked, half-asked the orderly.

She hadn't seen the vase of flowers in his hands. "These are for her," he replied, voice imitating the quivering of his fingers. He carefully sat it down on the bedside table, and without a bow or word, excused himself. A communal sigh was shared by all in the room.

_It wouldn't have been him anyway…he must hate me…_Hyun-su thought, peering sadly at the flowers. They were spectacularly arranged, a gorgeous collection of purple orchids and eglantine roses, and their light fragrance wafted like butterflies off their pollinated surfaces. Hyun-su cursed not knowing the hidden meaning behind the flowers, that she was not feminine enough to translate their secretive language. Crying softly, to no one save the blossoms, she realized that there was no card, no way to tell who had sent them. _Am I that despicable?_

Even though they had fought, bickered and argued, there was no denying what her heart was telling her, that Kankuro had put a cavity in her chest that could only be filled by him and him alone. She missed his touches, the way he would stroke her cheek tenderly, how he would grasp at her body, fueled by a carnal craving, the organic curves of their bodies falling together perfectly. A desperate need grew in her, that intense desire to hear his voice again, even if it was to chastise and yell at her wild nature. It was stupid to try and fight it, for ignoring her desire would only cause it to strengthen. In her heart, she had already forgiven him for failing to protect her on numerous occasions, excused the missing fingers and chest wound that she would carry forever. Looking down at her changed hand, she held it to her body like a lover clasping a token of love.

"I wonder who they're from," Sakura asked absentmindedly as she watched Hyun-su's wistful eyes drain a few more tears, recognized her reaction for what it was. "I bet Ino's shop grew them…want me to go by later and ask?"

"Sakura," Tsunade took a deep breath, eyes turning to slits. "I think its time to leave, there is still much to do."

It was the truth, but Sakura wasn't sure she wanted to obey this time. Her friend was lost in herself, and if she found the memories too strong, too painful, then she wanted to be there. But she wasn't an idiot, and knew better than to openly flout the Hokage. Embracing Hyun-su one more time, Sakura silently scorned love and all its consequences.

The Hokage tapped the girl's shoulder, put on the most benevolent expression she could afford. It probably looked like a grimace of pain, as out of use it is. "We'll return later, once out meeting with the Iwagakure Daimyo ends…lets not forget that we need to explain the loss of their ruler."

She did not need to be reminded. It had been the topic of conversation for nearly two days, the fact that Temari had killed the insane Tsuchikage in the Land of Fire. It was a political debacle that would take more than a few meetings to nullify, and it was clear to Hyun-su that the whole situation had aged Tsunade. It was fortunate that the shinobi that Gaara had not _dealt_ _with_ had not been supportive of the Tsuchikage and his demented campaign, and that supposedly several board members back in Iwagakure had doubted their leader's motives from the start, backing down only out of fear and threat of death.

_Click_

Alone. Hyun-su heaved a sigh, and pushed down on the stiff, flimsy mattress. She was wearier than she'd expected, and nearly tumbled to elbows and knees. Crying out, the girl clapped a hand over her mouth to snuff out the sound, didn't want to alert the other nurses or orderlies. Under the Hokage's behest, she was to be under strict 24-hour surveillance, waited hand and foot, which meant that the slightest hint of trouble would bring an army of nurses crashing down the door, stethoscopes, needles and bandages at the ready.

"Come on, legs, work for me!" she hissed, but her lower extremities were completely unhelpful. Reaching up to grasp the railings of her bed, she forced her slender arms to cooperate, and finally managed to fall back into her bed. Out of breath, she smacked the bed with both hands in frustration. She buried her head into her hands, wanting so badly to be free.

Something fell from the collection of flowers, jostled loose by the commotion. Folded into the shape of a lily, the iridescent paper had before been perfectly camouflaged, nestled within the branches and leaves. Loose now, it sat on the table, inviting Hyun-su like a moth to flame with its perfectly creased edges.

"So beautiful," Hyun-su whispered, taking the origami creation gingerly, taking great care not to disturb the folds. Every turn of it caused the shimmering paper to alight like panes of glass. She'd never had a talent for such things, and she admired it greatly. Whoever had made it had nimble, careful fingers. Her mind brought back visions of skin caressing skin, of a strapping, sweaty chest against her own, and of course, trained and experienced fingers making well-intended contact with her body. Much against her will, a moan betrayed her. Her hand flinched, and the paper flower suddenly unfurled. Before she could react with anger, she spotted a few words scribbled on the inside, written in a language she'd not seen in far too many years.

"_Goyangi_," her voice curled around the strange curves of the Korean word, almost rusty from disuse. Few spoke in her _other_ native language, and of them, only a fraction was fluent. She would not have been surprised to know that she was one of the last proficient Korean speakers. Her nails traced the circles and lines of the word, and at last could not suppress the joy its meaning brought her.

_They are from him!_ she said to herself, a flush spreading across her nose. Her eyes turned to the room's solitary window. She instantly wondered where he might be, if he was nearby, and she decided that it must be best to wait for him. There had been no guarantee that she'd find the discreet card, and it told her that he was being careful, perhaps afraid. She returned the paper to its original shape and carefully tucked it back with the flowers.

"He's testing me, putting the ball in my court," the girl deduced with a firm nod, now stroking the paper blossom as if it were the most precious thing in the world to her. Hyun-su could tell that when she saw him again – and she would – that there would be a lot of _uuh_'s and averted eyes.

She smiled with borderline satisfaction. It was always enjoyable to see the normally indomitable, stubborn man lose his wits, to fall prey to emotions of the heart. Lacing her fingers, the ashen-haired girl's only regret was that she still wasn't sure how Kankuro would react to the loss…the miscarriage. Her elation sunk down a few clicks, killed by her worry. The flowers were just flowers, _Goyangi_ was just a word, and none of it really told Hyun-su how Kankuro truly felt.

Her eyes reflected at her inner turmoil. She whispered to the flowers, "Guess I'll just have to wait, eh?"

* * *

Shikamaru flicked the lighter, and casually lit himself a cigarette, offering the flame to the man positioned to his right. He was met with a gruff, almost dismissive grumble.

Puffing out a column of smoke, Shikamaru chuckled at the man, the signs clear as day. "She already has you pussy-whipped?" he jeered, taking another drag. "It's not good for us men to let ourselves be run by troublesome women."

"Some advice, coming from a lazy dog such as yourself," staring at his cigarette greedily, Kankuro leaned forward on the bench, elbows coming to rest on the tops of his thighs. If it wasn't for Shizune's inhibitor patch, he probably would have snatched the cigarette right out from in between Shikamaru's thin lips. "You let my sister use you as a doormat, without as much as a single complaint."

"Tch, only because I know what's good for my health," the shadow-user rebutted guiltily. The cigarette petered out, crumbling within Shikamaru's pale fingers. He'd been trying to quit, inspired by Kankuro, and was stunned that he'd only taken two breaths from the foul-smelling thing.

Now looking at the puppeteer, much more recognizable in his traditional bunraku garb, Shikamaru could only assume what he was thinking. He liked puzzles, but preferred them in the form of inanimate objects and board games. The living enigmas were a bit more trying, and at times he wasn't sure he wanted to solve them. But this was his girlfriend's brother, a man he'd grown closer to in the past few years. It concerned Shikamaru to see such an imposing person weakened by something he couldn't see or touch or understand. _These_, Shikamaru hypothesized, _are the worst kinds of puzzles_.

"I just don't know anymore, Shikamaru." Seemingly interested in his own sandals, for there was nothing else he'd been looking at for the past ten minutes, Kankuro sighed ruefully. "At times, it's all I can do to not think of her, to want her and be there for her."

_Hyun-su_, Shikamaru thought keenly of the feral girl from the forest, the one who'd nearly bit his face off at the hotel that one morning. Whatever charm she had, it was definitely reserved for Kankuro, for she'd seemed far too bossy for Shikamaru's liking. An inherently good-listener, perhaps because talking was too much work, he waited patiently for Kankuro to continue.

Shaking his head slightly, he itched the back of his neck, trying to distract himself. "But, then I remember how badly I've screwed up, Shikamaru, and then I just think its better to just go, run away," he muttered quietly, pinching his green eyes shut. "I mean, if it wasn't for me, Hyun-su wouldn't have gotten knocked up."

Shikamaru frowned at the callous word: _knocked up_. It sounded so uninterested and cold. As a man who dreamed of one day having a family of his own, he had to profess his disappointment at Kankuro's lack of carefully chosen words. But he had to remember the ordeal his friend had gone through, what it must have done to him, seeing his own child expelled violently with bare eyes. He couldn't imagine, didn't want to, how he'd felt.

"Shit happens," Shikamaru shrugged, and then paused, as if the phrase was too silly for him. "Who knows why, but I've always held onto the belief that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. And even if it scares you witless, the only way you're going to figure this out is if you talk to her."

It wasn't what he'd wanted to hear, Kankuro thought with a thin smile, and yet it was precisely what he _needed_ to hear, the swift kick to the ass that only a "pussy-whipped" man could deliver.

"Not now," he told Shikamaru, "I've told her that I want to speak with her…but it's going to be on her terms."

Shikamaru grinned inwardly, a mental smirk at this newest revelation. It could take years to find the one you'd kill for, die for, and it pleased the Konoha shinobi to know that Kankuro was finally opening his eyes. He'd never approved as his previous relationship with the weapon-user, Tenten, but what business did he have in telling him? Hyun-su wasn't the most obvious of lovers, what with her exceedingly brutal mannerisms. She seemed better suited to date an ogre, Shikamaru believed, if only because he'd never bore witness to her tender side, the fragile, uncertain girl that had revealed herself to Kankuro alone that one bittersweet evening.

Kankuro said nothing, turned his face to hide his expression. Opening his eyes, he glanced back to the hospital, where Hyun-su had probably just received his present. Just like Sakura had guessed, they were indeed from Yamanaka Ino's flower shop, though thankfully it had been the father who'd waited on him. The last thing he needed was gossip about him spreading around the village from the mouth of one chatty woman to the next. He was entirely sure that she'd found the lily hidden amongst the flora, and had almost been worried that the hotheaded girl would have squeezed the fiber out from it. It was hard to forget their last encounter before the assault on Konoha, when Hyun-su's hand had nearly been hewn to the bone by that _damn _thug. The fault was his alone, and that truth ripped and clawed at his heart with more ferocity than the Tsuchikage's jutsu.

He'd give her a few days to seek him out, and then he'd be gone, back to the sands he'd not seen for weeks, almost missing the dunes and rare, wind-gnarled trees. Not in a million years could he have possibly guessed he'd long for his desert homeland so much, and with a bemused grin he wondered how long it would be before sand, not grass would be under his feet.

"So, what are you going to do," Shikamaru asked, leaning on his knuckles. He feigned a modest disinterest, a game he played often with Temari, finding that acting apathetic would sometimes invite others to divulge more than they normally would. His reverse-psychology worked; Kankuro shifted in his seat so that he faced him straight on.

"Like I said, I don't know. I want to stay here forever, wait for her, but who knows how long it might take. Christ, I'm really not all that anyway, she can do so much better." The doubt in his voice was so thick that it almost convinced him to get up and go right then and there. That is, if it wasn't for Shikamaru's mocking stare.

The shadow-user clucked his tongue. "That's not the Kankuro I know," tapping one side of his face, Shikamaru smiled; this was getting interesting! "You sand-nin are some of the most stubborn asses I'll ever know. Once you've got your eyes set on something, it'll take the jaws-of-life to make you let go. I mean, Temari wouldn't let me run away, no matter how hard I tried!"

Releasing a groan, Kankuro would be damned now if he scuttled away, not after being called out like that. Shikamaru was basically labeling him a coward, and the wound to his pride burned brightly. Kankuro had _never_ run away from a fight, _ever_. He might just survive so long as he considered this as being nothing more than another battle. Hyun-su was a worthy opponent, but Kankuro had more than a few tricks up his sleeves, and they weren't all puppets and string. The promise of conflict broke through his anxiety, leaving him with a mischievous grin.

"That's what I like to see, my friend," Shikamaru laughed, patting the puppeteer across his broad, hard shoulders. They stood together from the bench outside, and instantly the black-haired shinobi was physically daunted by the taller, more muscular man. He'd not yet realized how much Kankuro had grown, despite what Temari had told him through her letters. For sure, she'd complained about it at length; he recounted a particularly funny story of how he'd broken one of the flimsier chairs in Temari's apartment, falling so hard onto his ass that his tailbone had been sore for nearly a week.

Kankuro caught Shikamaru's lingering eyes, and scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, I'm getting taller; I don't need anyone else telling me that!" His voice bordered on annoyance, causing Shikamaru to look away abashed. The puppeteer slouched, much as he always did to hide his staggering height, for he was surely taller than not only both his siblings, but all of his colleagues in Konoha as well. In the last 6 months he'd needed three new costumes made for him to keep up with the cumbersome growth spurts, earning him the disdain from all of the local tailors in Sunagakure.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything!" Shikamaru defended himself, surprised by Kankuro's insecurity. He's never pegged the man as being so easily upset, and it strangely made Kankuro seem a bit more…_human_?

"Whatever," Kankuro grumbled, hurrying past the other man with long, urgent strides. He glided away from the hospital's patio, shoving his hands deep into his pant's pockets, something he did often when he was bothered.

"I didn't know you could hear eyes roll," Shikamaru remarked smoothly, but his smile faded when he saw exactly where the puppeteer was headed. "Oh no, you don't! I promised Temari that I wouldn't let you drink!" he called out, breaking into a light sprint. The bar loomed just in the distance, and like an evil beast it seemed to be calling out to Kankuro's exasperated psyche. With a last desperate lunge, Shikamaru yanked at his sleeve, pulling him back. The look of perpetual irritation on the older shinobi's face made him instantly regret it.

"So what if I have a drink? You think I always lose control around booze?" Kankuro snarled aggressively, pulling his arm free easily. He was about to stalk off to the sake bar, but a twitch in his gut warned him with visions of him puking his brains out. The scowl on his face relaxed; Kankuro stopped his pursuit. "Damnit, your right…I can't help it though. All of this, this…it's driving me crazy!"

He yanked at the ears of his hat as if it were his hair, about ready to tear it off and chew a hole into it.

"Lets get you something to eat, Kankuro, it'll take the edge off…then you can plan your next move," the other man suggested wisely, feet turning towards his and Choji's favorite barbeque restaurant. But Kankuro held back, as if he was still considering alcohol over a nice, juicy steak.

Grinding one foot into the dirt road, the green-eyed shinobi pondered his next steps carefully. A few moments passed in the tense silence, and then Kankuro muttered, "Shikamaru…I don't know what to do."

He sounded more afraid than angry, but Shikamaru knew better. Once more, he observed Kankuro from afar, refusing to put the words in his mouth.

Kankuro started to pace, looking like an caged lion at the zoo. His options were simple and few: stay or leave, hope or lose hope. His mind had already tried to back away from Hyun-su once, had discovered that he couldn't completely close himself off to what they'd begun even if he wanted to. Somehow, knowing the girl's affinity for solitude and a nomadic lifestyle, he suspected Hyun-su wouldn't have that problem.

Somehow, he knew deep down that she would be able to forget him just as easily as Tenten had.

The notion was invasive and abrupt, and it actually caused him to stumble. Catching himself, he scowled and kicked the pebble away violently, causing it to ricochet into the far-away tree, gauging the thick bark. He'd promised himself a longtime ago that he'd stop worrying about what Tenten had done, and on every level the comparison was an insult to Hyun-su.

"_Fuck…_" he cursed under a raspy breath. His tone was grumpy when he uttered, "Why the hell does this have to be so difficult. I _love_ her, it's as simple as that, why can't I just do what needs to be done?"

It hung in the air with all the finality and weight off a mountain: love. Kankuro couldn't believe he'd let it slip out so easily, and Shikamaru's keen ears had not missed it. His laughter was unusually loud in the still, brisk morning air, and he gave Kankuro a reassuring smirk. "Ah, but there's nothing in this world more complicated than love."

Kankuro looked uncomfortable, as if this were the last thing he wanted to talk about. It probably was. On his list of most-hated-things-in-the-world, the only things that trumped talking about love were spiders and tasers. He gave Shikamaru a tired look. "Can we just go eat?" he pleaded, wishing he'd never said the word at all. This was hardly a convenient topic, even with Shikamaru.

"If it'll get the rod out of your ass and calm you down, then sure, but don't think I'm going to forget what you said…" Shikamaru seemed to accept as he pointed to him, cocking his hip to one side as he shifted his weight.

Expression troubled, Kankuro snapped back. "Can we just drop it? I can't even explain any of this to myself, much less someone else…_fuck!_"

Shikamaru returned just as quickly. "No. You were just as nosey when Temari and I finally got together, and paybacks always a bitch."

The puppeteer's face dropped, seeing the blind, stupid logic. It was true; he'd been a cocky, inquisitive asshole when the harmless flirting between his sister and the shadow-user had erupted into a full-blown courtship. Too many times he'd stalked the two on one of their many dates in Sunagakure, just to make sure the lazy-nin wouldn't be stricken with idle hands and a wandering, hormonal mind.

Yes, payback certainly was a bitch.

Kankuro smiled barely, but it was still there. He rejoined with Shikamaru, matching his steps now with the shorter, and easily wiser shinobi, as they walked farther and farther away from the sake bar.

((A/N: I sincerely hope you are enjoying these later chapters, as I am enjoying writing them! Not sure if there are going to be any more fight scenes..let me know by reviewing!))


	25. Desert Flower

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto, save Hyun-su.

Also, as the manga/anime have progressed far beyond this fanfiction, expect several discrepancies to arise.

**Altered Carbon – **chapter 25

Dinner had been good, a time to finally give the shadow-user the third degree and find out what he'd been doing with Temari as of late. Without the fan-user's protection, Shikamaru was defenseless against Kankuro's relentless grilling, and he could only hide behind a full-mouth for so long before needing to swallow.

"No, I have no plans on making Temari leave the sand-village, yes, I know that she could tear my balls off single-handedly, and _yes_, I do have it in mind to make her an honest woman someday," Shikamaru counted off the answers one-by-one, all under the watchful eye of one very protective brother. His forehead had taken on a sweaty sheen; it wasn't from the kimchi.

Satisfied, Kankuro crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. His stomach was full to the brim and he patted it, content. "Good…the last thing I need is some no-good city squatter turning my sister into a priss," he explained whole-heartedly, meaning every last word. "You guys have been dating for a while. Don't think I haven't noticed how you look at her when she wears 'the outfit'…"

Shikamaru's eyeball twitched. He knew exactly what Kankuro was talking about, and he had to suppress a knowing smile that he'd seen the sand kunoichi both in _and_ out of it on a multitude of occasions.

Kankuro then switched tones so quickly that it surprised Shikamaru.

"Now that we have that out of the way, on to better and more important things," Kankuro begin lightly, "What do you think I should do now?"

"What, about Hyun-su?" Shikamaru guessed correctly, glad that the interrogation was _finally_ done. Kankuro sure could be scary at times. He ate the last of his meal, and then motioned the waiter for the check. "Kankuro, to be honest, I'm not really all that good with this sort of crap. I honestly wonder sometimes why Temari puts up with me. I don't buy her flowers often, so you've already got me beat there, and I'm no good when it comes to picking out presents."

Shikamaru decided that flattery was his best ticket. "I guess, just keep doing what you're doing. I mean, besides sucking as a bodyguard, that is." The bad chakra focused on his body told him he'd botched something. Flattery, it seemed, was not Shikamaru's strong suit.

"I'll keep that in mind," Kankuro replied tartly. It sucked to know that word of his various bungles had reached Shikamaru's ears; he knew he had Temari to thank for that. "But seriously, I've got to do the unexpected with this one. She's not going to be easily impressed."

"You sure about that? How many men do you think she's actually dated? She's a wild beast, not a love-stricken princess. Giving her a bar of soap and a book on basic etiquette would probably be for the best," Shikamaru laughed, though a scathing glare from the man opposite of him quieted him immediately.

Kankuro relaxed before he did something incredibly stupid. Holding his fists still, the green-eyed puppet master adjusted his cowl and said, "She may not look like it, but she's not some uneducated rogue, Shikamaru. She _is_ intelligent. If I do anything fake, she's going to be able tell, I know it."

"Hmm…" Shikamaru quietly absorbed this, tapping the table with his chopsticks. Helping Kankuro with his woman-troubles might just earn him some slack concerning his relationship with Temari, a reward not to be missed. "You're a talented guy, aren't you? Play to your strengths, go for something you know you won't foul-up.

_My strengths…_Kankuro pondered. He was sure that being a thorough lover wasn't what Shikamaru had in mind, which meant that he had to draw up on some other forte to woo with. Something different, something that a girl like Hyun-su could appreciate. Dinner for two was boring, trite…any _normal _girl would be happy with that. He'd already done flowers…would she like jewelry? Probably not, Hyun-su didn't seem like the type to want to have to fiddle with gems and gold.

"Hey! Make the dog again!"

The high-pitched cries caught Kankuro's attention, and he twisted to see what all the fuss was about. He was about to yell at them to quiet down when he suddenly saw a couple of brothers crowding around their mother, her hands close to a oil-lit lamp. She curved her fingers slightly, and a shape was cast on the wall behind them. It vaguely resembled an animal, and the two children burst into hysterics, woofing and barking.

"I think I may have just the trick," Kankuro lips forming a feral smirk. "Is the Konoha theatre still up and running?"

* * *

When Hyun-su asked her to teach her how to be a _woman_, to show her the art of feminine wiles, Sakura had been sure she'd heard wrong. But there was no questioning the blatant resolve in her red-eyes, the way she'd gesticulated her need with fraught hands. After a double-take or five, Sakura had taken Hyun-su, recently released from the Konoha hospital, back to her home.

She still lived with her parents, in the same room, though it was thankfully bereft of several stuffed toys and pink bed dressings. On a lonely table top, a wooden picture frame lay flat and unexposed. As they walked through the door, Hyun-su could not have missed the fleeting twist in Sakura's smile if she'd tried to. She made a mental note to examine the photograph later, but for the moment, the veritable arsenal that Sakura had unveiled on her bedspread had her fullest attention.

Hair rollers, a blow dryer, bobby-pins, lipstick and…something that looked like a cross between a speculum and a pair of pliers. The sight of the silver tool sent tremble up her spine, ending with a squeamish sound in between breaths. Sakura made a whuffling noise that might have been a laugh, putting away the scary-looking instrument which in actuality was just an eyelash curler.

"Don't worry, it doesn't bite! We can get to that later," she reassured her, opening up a small train-case. The small mirror inside was backlight, and within it Hyun-su saw her frightened, wide-eyed expression. "Now, what exactly are you hoping to learn from me?"

Hyun-su shuffled her feet on the carpet, eying the eye shadow palette with deepening concern. Once more the whimpering sounds escaped her, just wondering what devilish plans the pink-haired kunoichi had drawn up for her. For the first time since that morning, she was regretting her decision to ask for Sakura's assistance. If it wasn't for the flattened paper-lily in her pocket, the thought would have never occurred to her at all. She felt it with her hand, drawing confidence from its subtle outline.

"I don't know, I guess I just want to understand how to…how to…" she mumbled uneasily. She picked up a tube of lipgloss, stared at it as if it might sprout wings and fly out of her hand.

"What?" Sakura asked, tone lifting at the corners. "Seduce him?"

It sounded just as ridiculous when Sakura said it. But Hyun-su knew, or at least had an inkling, of what kind of women drew the attention of a man's eyes and…well, other parts of their bodies. It took a charm and elegance that Hyun-su unfortunately had never possessed for a day in her life, and couldn't hope to have without some outside help. Curvaceous hips and voluptuous breasts would only carry her so far; she decided she needed to show _him _something new and unfamiliar if she had any chance at making herself absolutely overwhelming. It had already been two days and she'd seen no sign from the puppet master. It was evident that if Hyun-su wanted results, she was going to have to put on her big-girl shorts and take the initiative.

Putting down the lipgloss, Hyun-su gazed at Sakura pleadingly. She refused to beg, but there was no other girl in the village that would possibly let her test out their make-up, not when she had a reputation a mile-wide for being the most vicious, unruly person currently residing in Konoha. Word traveled fast, and now that there was no reason to hide behind the scenes, more and more of the villagers were beginning to hear her name and remember her face. Her notoriety did not make her popular with the locals, to say the least.

Thank-god, then, that Sakura was still her friend.

"Well, if seduction is the name of the game, I think Ino would be your best bet." Hyun-su's face sunk and suddenly Sakura felt very guilty. She continued, "But I'm sure we can find something that works."

She quickly took up a bottle of water and began to douse Hyun-su's ashen hair. "Hey! That's cold!" she complained as her entire scalp became sodden. Whining at the chill, Hyun-su reluctantly sat herself by the vanity, back straight as an arrow. She'd been preened by Sakura on many occasions, and knew the routine all too well. First the water, then a half-hour of plucking and picking on the tangles that had likely formed overnight. Her follicles became tender and sore with dread.

"You're just like him, you know that, such a baby!" Sakura joked, and Hyun-su instantly froze.

"That's not funny," Hyun-su's voice grew dark and rasping, for Sakura was making a deadly assessment. "I don't want to be like him, why should he date a female clone of himself…that's like some kind of sick, twisted kind of masturbation!"

Sakura's nose turned at the statement, and she made an exaggerated gagging motion. "_Ew_. Never say that, ever again. Never."

"Sorry," Hyun-su smiled unapologetically, knowing that turn-about was all fairplay. "But I'm serious…I don't want to be the same woman he knew before. I want to be different."

Sakura plugged in her hair dryer and set to work with a rounded brush to smooth down the bumps of Hyun-su's unruly mane. Like always, the girl fussed like a child would, making faces at Sakura's insistent tugging. Piece by piece the strands became softer, straighter, and by the time Sakura was finished, there was very little curl left. Her hair fell in glossy layers, framing the silhouette of her cheeks perfectly. Carefully, Sakura undid the wraps that held two tightly-woven tendrils on either side of her face. These she brushed as well, until they were no longer course, and then tucked them back behind Hyun-su's slightly pointed ears.

"There, how does that look?" Sakura offered the other girl a hand-mirror, anxious to see her reaction. "I can use a flat iron if you want, make it smoother."

Not a single hair was springy or rough. Soft as rabbit's fur, she turned towards Sakura. "No, this is perfect…" she said, running her fingers through the slightly warm locks. Her happiness, however, was ephemeral when quite out of the blue, one of her bangs returned to its normal, flipped position, mocking her with its disobedience. She wrenched it straight, but it was to no avail; the strand refused to cooperate.

"_Damnit!_" she vented loudly, and behind her Sakura jumped. "I _hate_ my hair!" Like a domino-effect, the rest of her hair bounced back, until all of it was wavy once more. "This is pointless, stupid!" Frustration marking her face, a crimson wash spreading across nose and cheekbones, Hyun-su started to revert back into her undomesticated self, spitting and hissing like a wildcat. She huffed off the chair and stormed away from the vanity, leaving Sakura speechless. It took all the restraint in the world to not hurl the hand-mirror at the wall, shattering glass and plastic.

"Hyun-su, maybe you shouldn't be so concerned about that," Sakura tried to soothe the heated kunoichi, afraid for her room's livelihood. Wrenching away the mirror, she slammed it on the table when Hyun-su showed no signs of calming down. "_Enough!_" The word was focused and firm, and totally unlike Sakura.

"Excuse me?" Hyun-su retorted with a hand on her hip. Forgetting that she had been the one asking for help, she stalked to the room's only exit. "Forget this shit…I don't need this crap."

Sakura stammered, "S-stop, wait, Hyun-su!" and it was almost too late, she was already half-way out the door.

Something shifted in Hyun-su's pocket, and caused her to pause.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. But you don't need to put on a show for Kankuro, and I'm sure he doesn't want one," Sakura spoke slowly, warily, afraid to set off enough land-mine. Raking a hand through her own bangs, and noting that at some point they'd become sweat-drenched, the medic-nin motioned for Hyun-su to sit next to her on the bed.

"Why would he want this?" Hyun-su asked bluntly, pointing at her poufy, thick hair, and to the rest of her. The dam in her mind burst, words spewing out in a hurried stream. "Why would he want _any_ of this? I'm just some experiment gone-wrong, I can't cook, clean, my handwriting looks like the aftermath of a pen exploding, and now the possibility for me to bear children has just been shot to hell…what the _fuck_ do I have to offer any man?"

Her body felt like screaming, but settled with a loud, obnoxious sigh. Plopping onto the mattress and then falling back, Hyun-su felt herself sinking into the blankets, wishing they would devour her alive, hide her until Kankuro left; he would leave eventually right? There was no way she'd miss him, she being so accustomed to the coming and going of people, the way life went on whether you wanted it to or not.

_Yeah right, keep telling yourself that, maybe one day you'll actually believe it_, Hyun-su knew all too well that lying wouldn't make her problems go away.

The bed moved slightly as Sakura reached over her to pick up some mascara. "Make-up and hair are just superficial solutions…you wash them away and you're still left with what makes you, well, _you_," she started to say, uncapping the tube and slipping out a gunk-covered brush. "If you want to impress Kankuro, then you're going to have to show him how much he means to you. You have a tendency to be stand-offish, but he knows as well as I do that it's all a show."

"A show? What are you babbling about?" Hyun-su grunted, snatching the mascara away to give it closer inspection. Waving it over her face, she flinched when a small blob spattered her on the nose.

"I mean, there's someone else in there," Sakura answered honestly, grabbing a moist toilette from her make-up kit and gently blotting away the inky mess Hyun-su had made. "Someone that isn't all claws and wrath. Another you that is just trying to get out."

"That," swatting away her finger, Hyun-su bared her teeth angrily and unknowingly clenched her three-fingered hand. "That is weakness, and it's something that I will ever show," she defended, replacing the cap and handing the mascara back. "You can't say you ever got a man to like you by acting pathetic."

"Maybe, but for sure I never got one by acting like I was going to slice his testicles with a kunai every time we got into an argument." Slicing the air with a downwards chop, Sakura kicked off her sandals. She wiggled her toes in the air before rolling towards Hyun-su, coming to rest by the girl's hip. "That's not to say that Kankuro doesn't put on airs himself."

"You're not kidding me," Hyun-su said, face cold from the toilette. "I thought at first that he was just some asshole. Sometimes I wish he had stayed that way, so that I'd never fallen for his stupid face in the first place."

Sakura poked her in the side, for she saw Hyun su's annoyance for what it truly was. How long had she picked, squabbled and ridiculed a certain blond-haired shinobi, only to later realize that she'd been harboring similar feelings? She'd ignored them for so long, still carrying a torch for the long-gone Uchiha; part of her knew she'd been fortunate that Naruto had waited for her to finally wake up. They were unofficially a couple, seeing each other when their frantic schedules afforded them to, but for now, that was enough for Sakura.

She knew how strong the heart was, but also how long it took to heal. Just like Naruto, Kankuro was giving Hyun-su the time she needed to come a decision on her own; the eglantine roses had shown Sakura this much. It came as a breath of fresh air that _some_ men still understood the delicate grace needed to properly send flowers; the first bouquet the young frog-sage had given her told her that Naruto thought she was a frigid old woman plagued by grief who also had hopes of being a bride. Though she wouldn't argue with the peach blossoms, the rest of the flowers had found an early retirement in her kitchen's trashcan.

"I hear you," Sakura mused, thinking about that humorous day with a quiet smile. Thankfully, Naruto had never found out what she'd done, and after a few subtle hints, her _next_ set of flowers had been decidedly more appropriate. "Men can be impossible, but we can't live without 'em."

Rolling onto her other side, Hyun-su chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose you're right…I never thought, not in a million years, that someone would actually…like me."

"He _loves_ you, Hyun-su, and that's something that also amazes me. I've known Gaara and his siblings since they were genin," Sakura confessed.

"Oh, _really_?" Hyun-su sounded skeptical and raised a single eyebrow. "What were they like back then?"

"Different…not on the outside, but in here," pointing fingertip to heart, Sakura closed her eyes thoughtfully. She had to struggle to remember how the sand trio had once been, a cabal of ruthless cutthroats preying on the weak and frightened. She recalled in particular the day Kankuro had terrorized Konohamaru and his friends, lording his brute strength like a weapon. It was like so long ago…

"They're still the same in some ways, but they've given up on the scare tactics. Gaara has become a great leader, Temari a passionate, if not bossy, kunoichi and Kankuro...well…."

"Well?" Hyun-su was becoming interested, almost _too_ interested. But curiosity had never killed anything she knew. It was hard for her to imagine the puppeteer being anything else than what she had seen so far.

"He's grown-up, become less of a bully," replied the pink-haired girl. She leaned back and rested both hands on her flat stomach. Lying like this made her feel young once more, sharing secrets about boys to another girl. "It's kinda hard to put in words, but then again, Kankuro's always been mysterious. Even when he dated Tenten he was still a shut-book. He never wanted to let anyone get too close."

There was that name again. _Tenten_. The scars on Hyun-su's chest itched uncomfortably at the sound of Kankuro's ex-girlfriend. She'd not seen the weapon-flinging girl since she'd crushed her fingers, and wasn't so sure she wanted to anytime soon. Hyun-su knew that the kunoichi would be out for her blood the next time they clashed kunai.

"But what makes me so different?" Hyun-su had meant to whisper. The private, heart-felt inquiry slipped out, and she bit her lip hard, nearly cutting the skin.

"To the best of my knowledge, you're the first girl to ever kick his butt. That fact alone makes you different." Sakura twiddled her fingers lazily as she talked, trying to put her thoughts into words Hyun-su would comprehend. "But I think in a way, you remind him of Gaara."

"His brother? Sakura, that is too weird, even for Kankuro."

Sakura shook her head quickly. "Here me out. Gaara was like you, a project, something created by his father. I don't think he pities you so much as he values how you've survived like Gaara did."

Hyun-su digested this, raising her head to search Sakura's face for some deeper, hidden meaning. "So, he thinks I'm some tough woman then?"

"Not just tough, but resilient. Shinobi of the sand are not like those of Konoha," Sakura corrected, and then continued, "I was stationed there a few years ago to help out in their hospital. While I was there, I noticed that the men did not necessarily want women who were simply pretty. They were looking for mates that could survive the harsh desert conditions. Resilience is a big thing for the people of Sunagakure; I wouldn't put it past Kankuro that he considers you a prime candidate to accompany him there."

Something about her tone made Hyun-su look into Sakura's light green eyes. She stared at her friend, wondering if the medic-nin could somehow see through her thoughts. Though living with sand permanently in her panties was less than desirable, it went without saying that Hyun-su could not stand to remain in the quant peace of Konoha forever. Its walls could only contain her for so long; her true calling was somewhere outside, where there was still danger in day-to-day life.

Sakura sensed her discomfort; she didn't know why Hyun-se seemed to fall into a trance. To break the awkward ice that lasted for far too long, she cleared her throat loudly and said brightly, "So! When are you going to see him again?"

Hyun-su's heavy eyes blinked a few times slowly while she regained her train of thought. "Huh?" she said stupidly.

"I mean, that's why you're here, right?" Sakura said, starting to feel more comfortable with their conversation. She had become used to Hyun-su's more loud-mouthed tendencies; she was unsure of what to do make of the girl's sudden silence. "To make Kankuro weak-in-the-knees crazy! Oh, stop with the faces, I'm not putting you in another kimono, not after what happened with the one I lent you…"

It was meant to be a joke, but Hyun-su frowned anyway. "Do you really think…he would ask me to go with him?"

"Only one way to find out." Excited by the challenge, Sakura bounced on the bed and popped onto her naked feet. "I'm not saying you should lay yourself at his feet gift-wrapped with your suitcases ready."

"Ah, the old hard-to-get game, then?" Hyun-su answered slyly, now recognizing how much fun this could turn out to be for the two girls. She stood up from the snug bed, finding herself surprisingly eager.

"Alright then, this is more like it!" Traipsing to her dresser drawer, Sakura ripped it open with a smooth tug, holding a collection of neatly folded shirts and other wardrobe essentials. "It's not much, and I'm not sure what'll fit," she stated woefully, comparing her tomboyish figure to that of the well-endowed Hyun-su. She didn't think any of her shorts would manage to go over her hips; perhaps a skirt with a wider allowance. Her fingers wrapped around a plain knee-length number, and she held it up to Hyun-su's body. The color was good, plain black, but the length and width did nothing for her. "Not quite, don't want you to look like a box. Hm, how about this?"

The next skirt was shorter, and cut from a thick green, khaki material. Cargo pockets on each side made it a more practical skirt, which was why Sakura had purchased it. "You'll have to wear leggings since its getting colder by the day."

Hyun-su gazed at it critically. "I'm not sure this is the way to go, Sakura." She hated skirts, the way they snagged at your legs when you ran, how they never sat in one place for very long. All-in-all, Hyun-su regarded them with little interest, favoring shorts much like the ones she wore now. But she'd rather be struck by lightning than once again be seen by Kankuro wearing servant's clothing. She wondered if Kankuro would wear that handsome hakama and jacket combo from before; the memory of seeing him so finely outfitted sent her heart into back-flips.

The pink-haired girl tossed the tan skirt into a pile with the other one, sharing Hyun-su's sentiment. Maybe it would be for the best that she wear her red turtleneck; it left little to the imagination, and didn't men prefer things that way? Before she could suggest it, Hyun-su had fished out a pair of cropped pants for herself. "Those? They were my mother's. Hey! Those might actually fit!"

"Geez, Sakura, why don't you just call me fat and get over it…" Hyun-su chided with a lop-sided grin. But her friend was right, these clam-diggers were cut more generously through the hips and thighs, and had pockets, always a plus. Pants without pockets, she believed, were about as useful as shoes without their soles. "The color's okay, too."

"Yeah, I would have to agree with you. Blue compliments you," already digging into another drawer for a matching top.

"Well, tell Blue that I said thank-you," Hyun-su remarked airily, nodding her head slightly as she spoke. She methodically unbuttoned and removed the shorts she was currently wearing, that drag scratchy thing that she'd at one time preferred, but now couldn't stand the sight of. "Ooh, these are nice," she remarked as she drew the zipper up. While by no means a fashionista, Hyun-su had the common sense to know when something fit and when it didn't. She checked for any bulges, but her hands slid uninterrupted down from waist to leg.

"And what about this..." Sakura said, holding up a sleeveless top. It was a subtle cream color, cut longer than most shirts Hyun-su was accustomed to, so much that it could have been worn as a mini dress. Its hemline was slightly pleated, as was the scooped-neck up top. For Hyun-su, the shirt had just enough femininity to make a woman want to wear it without being covered with lace, frills and pastel shades.

Taking it from Sakura, the red-eyed kunoichi undid the sash of her blouse. When the myriad of scars began to show on her half-naked body, she regretted disrobing so openly. They pegged her body like the holes on Swiss cheese, white and slightly veiny. She tried to cover as many of them as she could with her hands, some were too spread apart, others too large.

"Its okay, I've seen a lot worse at the hospital," Sakura comforted the girl. Pulling her hands away, Sakura's eyes immediately found the largest of the blemishes, a jagged wound located near the middle of her chest. "That's the one, isn't it? The one from the forest."

"I hardly remember it anymore, it seems like eons ago. Sometimes I'm glad for this," she uttered, tracing around the raised edges of the scar, "Because without it I'm afraid I might forget."

"Wouldn't you want to? I don't know about you, but most people I know wouldn't call getting shanked in the boob a happy memory," Sakura tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. Her friend was still absentmindedly touching the wound. In her eyes, a distant stare. "Hyun-su?"

Hyun-su's head jerked up. She blushed for half a second, and finally acknowledged Sakura. "It's not a happy memory, but it was the first time I think Kankuro understood me," she said coolly, shoving her arms through the open holes of her new shirt. The fabric had some kind of iridescent twill weaved into it; it shimmered ever so slightly when she moved. "He understood that he couldn't protect me."

Sakura tried to make sense Hyun-su's difficult breed of logic, but she resolved that doing so would only result in a head-ache. She fixed a wrinkle in the shirt, happy with the final result. Standing back, she rubbed her chin inquisitively. "Something's missing…lemme see here," voice breaking off, Sakura went to fetch a small box from her closet. She held it with utmost care, not letting it tip to any side. The lid flipped up on a single hinge, and the two girls peered inside to find what must have been Sakura's only stash of jewelry.

In all her life, Hyun-su had _never_ worn a single bauble. Her ears weren't even pierced, probably because as a child no one would come within 20 feet of her with a needle. The collection in the box was modest, just a few shining bracelets and some assorted necklaces, but it still trumped Hyun-su's nonexistent bling.

"My mother gave this to me a while back…I'll need it back, but for now I think I can part with it for a few days," Sakura said as she took out a silver chain. From it dangled a small charm in the shape of a flower. It took a few seconds, but Hyun-su remembered seeing a similar bloom in Kankuro's hospital gift.

"The pink flower?" she asked, turning around so that Sakura could place the metal cord around her neck and clasp it. The necklace rested on her clavicle tenderly in the same way a person could place their kisses.

Sakura nodded her head. "It's actually a kind of rose, known to grow in the desert," she started, as if she were reciting for an exam. "I can see why Kankuro chose it."

"Why?" Hyun-su admired the necklace with a faraway look, as if imagining the blooms amidst a sea of sand.

Sakura had hoped she wouldn't have to explain. It wouldn't do to spoil all of the puppet master's little secrets. "You'll just have to ask him when you get the chance, okay?" she finally answered, closing the box. Hyun-su didn't need anymore glitz or glam; to be truthful the necklace was an unneeded accessory, for she was effortlessly beautiful.

"Okay," Hyun-su relented, seeing that she wasn't going to get another shred from the medic-nin. Touching the charm again, almost afraid that she'd wear the silver away with her affection, the alarmingly quiet girl surveyed herself in the mirror. Her hair was still a treacherous nightmare by her standards, but the outfit they'd together chosen accented all her best features without really even trying. It was hard to believe that the girl in the mirror was actually _her_, the same girl who'd killed so many in the past.

"Isn't this like putting on a mask, Sakura? Is this really me?" Hyun-su said questioningly. She hated to admit it, but the person looking back at her was like an entirely different girl. Hadn't Sakura said Kankuro wouldn't want a fake-version, some made-up doll?"

"I wouldn't say its _not _you, so much as another part of you," folding the skirts, Sakura's voice was void of any doubt or skepticism.

The honesty in her voice vanquished Hyun-su's hesitation, and she allowed herself to accept the girl within the glass. She seemed to smile back at her, assuaging her worst fears, a sister that she'd always had but never known. Holding her hands back behind her, Hyun-su could not keep herself from feeling buoyant.

"I…I think I'm ready."

((A/N: another short chapter…guess I'm going for a more minimalistic approach. Gotta say my fingers are itching to write a fight scene. Please Read and Review!))


	26. The Eglantine Rose

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto, save Hyun-su.

Also, as the manga/anime have progressed far beyond this fanfiction, expect several discrepancies to arise.

Warning! This chapter contains some very suggestive material...nothing that think would be worthy of a MA or even M rating, but still, I just wanted to put the warning here. In my opinion, nothing in this chapter is any worse than the scene in Chapter 10.

**Altered Carbon – **chapter 26

The "invitation" came not ten minutes later.

While trying to convince Hyun-su to wear heels – a fruitless endeavor, for she was adamant on her flat sandals – Sakura felt another presence near by. She had no sooner looked towards her open window when a dark shadow descended into the room. She nearly screamed in spite of herself.

"I guess the polite thing to do is cough and let you know I'm here, but that always seemed so forced," the figure said smarmily, adjusting the large object on their back before straightening. "And besides, the looks on your face…priceless!"

Temari, though older and wiser, had apparently lost none of her wit and tactlessness over the years. Her sandaled feet clicked on the floor as she approached the two other kunoichi.

"Temari, why are you here? And why are you stalking us outside the window?" Sakura blurted, relieved that it hadn't been some sick voyeur, but not happy that she'd shown so much fear. Though no longer the pathetic washed-up genin who would cry at getting a paper-cut, Sakura still had a long way to go in terms of completely erasing her fear.

Temari eyes honed in on Hyun-su. "Well, lookie who we have here? I would have _never_ guessed it was you, Hyun-su!" If she'd meant malice, the smile on her face betrayed her, for it was as warm as a quilt. She had genuinely missed the volatile girl, because for all the trouble she'd caused, no other person on the planet had ever brought her brother happiness like she did. Hyun-su was an _investment,_ so to speak, one that Temari had full stock in. "The new look…its good. Let me guess, Sakura picked it out?"

"In part," Sakura answered quickly, heartbeat finally coming back down to earth. She could feel the warmth returning to her skin; it had been a while since one of her friends had gotten the jump on her. "But that doesn't change the fact that you busted into my room like that? What's the deal?"

"Well, first off, I'm not here for a makeover," Temari stated, then getting right to it, "I'm here to tell Hyun-su that my brother, the massive coward that he is, would like you to accompany him, Shikamaru and myself to the theatre later this evening."

Peering past Temari to the open air, Hyun-su saw the yellow sun already starting to sink below the horizon. "You're a little late, aren't you," she remarked with a knowing grin, "Had some trouble convincing your boytoy to come along and play?"

Temari groaned, unsatisfied by Hyun-su's accuracy. "The man has no taste for the performing arts. I thought you city-slickers were the civilized, upstanding types."

"We are as a community, but not all of us can appreciate the theatre," Sakura replied testily. She enjoyed going to plays on occasion; they were a welcome distraction from the rigors of a shinobi's chaotic life. "I'm honestly surprised it even survived the wreckage."

"Its one of the few buildings that did," Temari agreed, now tapping her foot edgily. The memories from that night would surely haunt her sleep for some time, the fires all around, the screaming of innocent lives just before they were cut down. It brought no sense of pleasure to Temari that one of the masterminds behind the invasion, the genjutsu-master Chinatsu, was still out there somewhere. She wished the witch were nursing a fatal wound in some ditch, but neither Temari nor any of her allies had been able to lay a single finger on her during their battle. Search parties were being sent out twice daily, trying to find her and bring her back for questioning, but so far, only traces of her were being found, a scrap of cloth her, a footstep there. One squadron had actually located a pair of shattered glasses, their best lead yet.

"When is it," Hyun-su asked, sharing Temari's frustration; she wanted to wring the blue-haired-bitch's neck just as much as the sand kunoichi. "When does Kankuro want us to arrive?"

"In about an hour, though it seems like you're already to go. Might want a jacket, it's supposed to be chilly tonight," Temari advised, producing a few tickets from her pocket. She handed one to Hyun-su and then returned to the window sill.

"Not going through the front door?" Sakura observed with chagrin.

"Why? This way's much more convenient. Anyway, see you later, Sakura," she stooped underneath the lower sash, pausing for a moment to address Hyun-su personally. "And…you look nice. It's a good change."

With a well-timed jump, Temari disappeared from sight, leaving nothing but a lot of questions in Hyun-su's scattered mind. The ticket in her hand felt heavy with the weight of its importance.

"At least we don't have to wait any longer for Kankuro to make his move. I'm surprised by the choice, didn't see him as being a patron for the arts," closing the window to avoid any more intrusions, Sakura turned to find Hyun-su staring down at her.

"Why? Because he's not from the Leaf?" she asked sharply, her viper-tongue making an untimely appearance. She regretted saying it at once, and forced her red-eyes to soften.

"Its okay, I shouldn't have said that," Sakura admitted with embarrassment. "I was being judgmental…and rude."

As much as Hyun-su wanted to rub it in her face that Sakura was right, she quickly noticed that evening was well-underway. The two girls soon fell into a contemplative silence, digesting this new development.

"You…you had better get going," Sakura finally said, realizing that all the deliberation in the world wasn't going to get Hyun-su to leave. She patted one of her shoulders reassuringly. "Everything is going to be fine, you should just try to have some fun."

Fun. Hyun-su wasn't even sure she knew what the word meant any longer. "But, what if things don't go right, what if…what if he's angry about this?" she asked softly, but emphatically, rubbing the surface of her stomach. The effects of her miscarriage still lingered within, a twinge of pain every now and again, a dull sinking feeling in her gut.

"How will you find out if you stay here?" Sakura answered with a hypothetical question, looking at Hyun-su soberly. "Now, go."

With nothing but a nod, Hyun-su walked towards the door slowly. Her feet carried her without being told to, and she was surprised when her pace quickened, legs bounding down the stairs, hands twisting the knob on the front door. By the time she reached the street her body was in a full-blown sprint.

The lights in the streets were dim. There were torches placed periodically along the road, but they were few and far between. They cast pale shadows on the rough stone walls that rose up into the darkness of the damaged city, their light diminished by the immensity of the moon above. The sky was fantastically, almost mesmerizingly bright, and a chill ran along the wind. Hyun-su crossed her arms, cursing herself for ignoring Temari's warning. The cold, along with her nervousness, caused her to shudder.

The long, winding road let out into a smaller corridor, flanked on both sides by the same lanterns. Just up ahead, Hyun-su saw a large building spring up in the distance. This one was bathed by the glow of several braziers; the front of it was illuminated, as was the sprawling marquee above. She did not recognize the title of tonight's show, and realized that unless they were showing a children's play, there was little chance she would have. The last time she'd been to the theatre was when she was three, perhaps one of the few fond memories she had of her life in Iwagakure. A pair of impressive double-doors was all that stood between her and whatever lay inside. _Well, that and the fact that you're scared shitless_, Hyun-su mentally begrudged herself. She told her inner-self to shut the hell up just as another inconvenient shiver captured her. Nothing was going to happen so long as she stood outside, but the icy wind was making it less than comfortable to remain here.

Like before, it was a voice from behind her that finally put things into motion.

"I must say, I'm almost surprised that you came."

Hyun-su's eyebrows went up. It wasn't Kankuro, but a close second. Parts of Gaara almost blended into the shadows, the red of his hair dulling to dark and the blackness around his eyes deepening. In contrast, his pale skin seemed to attract the moonlight as he turned his face up to the sky.

"Though I'm glad that you indeed did," he spoke with the same controlled focus as always, as if he had to hide his enthusiasm or risk his status as a shinobi leader. If he were smiling, it was lost to the shadows.

"Why are you here?" Caution slipped into her voice. She had not expected the company of the Kazekage tonight! Did all of the sand siblings have a genetic predisposition for sneaking up on people? "Temari hadn't mentioned you'd be here."

"And I have no intention of staying here. I just wanted to give you a few words of…encouragement," he explained with a tip of his head. He closed his eyes, struggling over what to say. "I want you to be careful, with Kankuro."

Hyun-su puzzled over the young man's expression, marked with worry and something she might have mistaken for irritation if not for his continued grin. Finally, she asked, "Why? He's a big boy, he can take care of himself."

He blinked at her, and then tilted his head back. He was never good with conversations like this, not when they were so…informal. "I agree with what you've said, but you misunderstand me. It is not him that I am concerned about. It is you."

"That's ridiculous," she admonished, turning a finger on herself. "_I_ can take care of _myself_."

"Perhaps, but you have never courted a sand shinobi. We have certain, ahh, tendencies," he'd spoken delicately, trying to skirt around some deeper inner meaning. He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through course, red hair. "He has never been one for commitment. Save a rather annoying, and to my standards, sub par Konoha brat, you are the first female that he has shown a prolonged interest in."

The Kazekage's serious attitude had a habit of spoiling a good mood, but his opinion seemed to lift Hyun-su's spirits slightly. The fact that he had a blatant dislike for Tenten told Hyun-su that he at least favored her, if only by a slight margin.

"I want what's best for my brother, has always been that way," he continued without giving Hyun-su a second to speak. By now, he was strolling towards a pillar holding up the theatre's marquee, leaning on it casually. For a moment he was absent words, pinching the space in between his eyes; for some strange reason, Hyun-su got the idea he did this often when he spoke. "If he indeed seeks to stake his claim on you, I want you to know that sand shinobi have been known to…move quickly."

"You make it sound as if I'm some kind of possession," Hyun-su returned warily.

"Once again, you misunderstand me." Gaara had to stop again, massage his eyebrow-less forehead, as if it would nurse his mind into coming up with better words to say. "All I'm saying is this. I already know that the two of you have, how you say, shared the same mat. I'm also more than aware of his honest feelings for you, for even though I might have more difficulty attaining female companionship, I am not an idiot."

Sakura's guess had been more on the mark than Hyun-su had originally thought. A flush lit her skin, and she had to avert her eyes from Gaara's penetrating, dark stare.

"I want to know, will you be loyal to him or will you crush his heart as well?" Gaara finally asked, tired of dancing around the question. He hadn't meant to give her such a preamble, but he also did not want to be too direct. He knew he was at times more blunt and forthright than most people were accustomed to. "I _need_ to know, Hyun-su, or I will not allow you to enter this theatre."

Gaara's protectiveness was uncanny, Hyun-su thought as she avoided his continued visual probing. She twisted her hands together, only coming up to meet his eyes when she was sure she could hold a steady glance. "I don't know…so much has happened. Sometimes I don't think I can trust myself around another person." 

_An honest answer_, Gaara smiled to himself, pleasantly surprised. "You can, but only because I have seen what you do when cornered. Kankuro will need a stubborn, but dedicated female."

The way he spoke was so scientific, meticulous, that she was not surprised at all that he'd yet to find a woman able to deal with his detached nature. Hyun-su had to keep telling herself that this was Kankuro's brother, and despite his relatively odd vernacular, he was only speaking out of concern for his sibling.

"I hope you're right, Gaara, I mean Kazekage-sama," she fumbled, realizing that even though the young man was shorter and younger than she, he was the leader of an entire shinobi nation.

"I am. There's no doubt about it. Anyone that can defeat my brother and still maintain a somewhat normal relationship with him is worthy company." His lips once again pulled into a faint smile; he'd never grinned so much in one night he was almost certain the muscles on his face would be sore by morning. "You might be interested to know that my siblings and I will be returning to Sunagakure in two days time. I hope you plan on making the most of your last days with Kankuro."

The thought of being apart from the puppet master hit Hyun-su like a physical blow to the chest, sucking the air clean out. It came as a shock, this sudden feeling that he was being cut off from her. Color melting from her face, Hyun-su had almost forgotten that Gaara was standing close to her when he spoke up one last time.

"I had better get going, I still need to meet with Tsunade," he stated in a matter-of-fact way, as if their conversation had never happened at all. A whirlwind of sand overcame his body, and when Hyun-su was finally able to unshield her eyes from the flurry, Gaara was gone.

* * *

The inside of the theatre was opalescent and gave no indication that the rest of Konoha was in ruins. It had been by sheer miracle that not an inch had been burned or charred by the fires, especially since so much of it was flammable. The entirety of its structure was wooden, with one wall forming a convex semi-circle. Within this cavity was a recreation of an ancient pagoda, also formed of solid oak and maple. Its beautifully designed eaves were shingled with red slats, and on the top of its roof stood an intricate filial, made of some reflective metal Hyun-su could not identify. Beneath the massive architecture was the main stage, lit by what must have been hundreds of candles and lamps. Directly in front of the stage were two raised platforms, which Hyun-su knew the musicians would be stationed, and on either side lay elaborate gardens with rock-covered grounds. Several small plants dotted the landscape, lending the theatre an almost ethereal, monastery-like quality.

Hyun-su looked at the theatre with the starry-eyes of a child, mouth agape. In all her life she'd never witnessed something as ornate and highly wrought. She could only faintly imagine how many hands over how many months it had taken to construct this building, and her estimation was probably on the low end. There were already many people gathering, forming themselves along the curved rows of seats, talking feverishly to one another. Some of them noticed Hyun-su and either scowled at her or moved to another area of the theatre. She did not blame them. How could she when their fear was so valid?

From a short ways away, Temari appeared once more, this time with Shikamaru close to her side. Her one arm was looped through his, and he seemed highly uncomfortable by the display of affection.

"It's not right, you _saved_ them, and this is how they repay you," she commented dryly as they walked closer. She turned her nose towards another couple, dressed in robes of rich satin and silk, already bustling away with their purses clutched tight. "Stupid aristocrats."

"Hey, try to take it easy on them. Our town was almost destroyed, you can't expect them to be all cheery and easy-going after something like that," Shikamaru said quickly, defending his fellow townsfolk even when he knew they were acting childishly. Ignorance was not bliss, and he knew they would not be treating Hyun-su like rubbish if they would only stop to hear her side of the story.

Ignoring them, Hyun-su looked either way, and asked "Where is Kankuro?"

Shikamaru had hoped she wouldn't notice. He groaned and rolled his eyes. "I have no idea where that idiot is. He told us he'd be meeting us right now, but it looks like he's late, or – "

He woofed us Temari dug one of her elbows deep into his side. A few theatre-goers looked over at the commotion and whispered to themselves. They too moved away.

"He's probably not coming," Hyun-su finished for Shikamaru, trying very hard not to sound disappointed. She managed a wan smile, and sat down on the closest bench. Hands in her lap, the young girl, try as she might, could not fight to control her emotions for much longer. Her shoulders slumped, and a small sniffle caused her nose to burn and turn red.

Temari's teal eyes slanted. She had not wished for this to happen. She hissed at the man beside her, "_You dumbass! Why did you have to go and say that?_"

"_Sorry! I was just being truthful_," he whispered back, stealing a look at Hyun-su. He felt like kicking himself for being so insensitive when he saw a single tear making its way down her face. "_Jeez, this sucks…_"

"It's okay," Hyun-su looked up at them, cutting him off. She used the front of her shirt to blot away the tear. "I'm still going to have a good time, whether Kankuro is here, or not."

Her face was set and firm, but the tone of her voice told Temari she was not being completely truthful. She sat next to her and motioned for Shikamaru to do the same. "I'm going to pile-drive that piece-of-shit brother of mine when I see him next."

Hyun-su laughed sullenly, only half-listening to the blond-haired kunoichi. She reached into her pant's pocket and pulled out the lily. With a single squeeze its paper corners smashed into a ball. It fell to the floor a second later. 

_Kankuro, just what are you thinking?_ Temari asked herself, ready to leap up from her chair, go find and drag him to the theatre. She kept looking at Hyun-su, to make sure she was okay, but every time the girl would give her the same fake smile. It was unbecoming of her, a ruse meant to put Temari's mind at ease. "I'm sure he'll be here."

"I said, it's okay," Hyun-su responded with another strained smile. Just as she finished, the lights overhead were covered by shades, and the room dimmed significantly. The hubbub in the theatre ceased almost immediately. "Anyway, looks like the show is just about to start."

A few theatre hands stretched a canvas of black material across the back of the room, securing it with a few hooks. The inky blackness was absolute and Hyun-su had to question what kind of performance they had in store. An older man, probably in his sixties, came out from a door off-stage, dressed in heavy, long robes, carrying a small guitar-like instrument. He took his place on one of the platforms, organizing his robes from underneath and drawing open a large scroll.

He began to pluck the three thin strings of the shamisen with a plectrum of ivory, and a strange lonely sound rose into the building. From the other side of the theatre another figure emerged, this one younger than the musician, but clothed in similar robes. The newcomer added his voice to the shamisen's notes, his voice warbled and nasal. When he too reached the platform adjacent to that of the elder man, he sat upon it, crossing his legs.

Hyun-su watched as several black-clad figures slunk onto the stage, the outlines of their bodies becoming indistinguishable against the draperies. In their hands, they carried two marionettes, crafted from thin wood, and painted to form the likenesses of a feudal lord and a beautiful princess. Everything, from the sumptuous costumes to the individual parts of the puppet's faces, was made to imitate life, and the ashen-haired kunoichi found herself both entranced and disturbed by how good a job they did. Their movements were as fluid as water as they moved to and fro on the stage, interacting with one another with such ease that it amazed all in the audience.

The Chanter sitting next to the shamisen-player began to narrate the story, speaking in a whimsical fashion. 

_Many years ago at Gamogun, in the province of Omi, was a castle called Adzuchi-no-shiro. It was a magnificent old place, surrounded by walls and a moat filled with lotus lilies. The feudal lord was a very brave and wealthy man, Yuki Naizen-no-jo. His wife had been dead for some years. He had no son; but he had a beautiful daughter aged eighteen, who was given the title of Princess Aya. _

At this point, more puppets appeared on stage, those of servants and lesser lords, who seemed to fawn over the princess and her father. They fanned them, brought them wine, tending to their every whim. The princess moved with exceptional grace, even more so than any of the other marionettes, as she would often times glide across the stage dramatically, sweeping her kimono behind her. She had the full attention of all those in her company, whose wooden eyes followed her with rapt interest. 

_For a considerable period there had been peace and quiet in the land; the feudal lords were on the best of terms, and everyone was happy. _

The puppets were now shown sitting around a table, arranged on small cushions. They were all drinking tea from miniature cups, and they moved in such a way that one might actually believe liquid was flowing into their mouths. A handmaiden offered the princess an embroidered napkin; she took it graciously and whipped her painted lips.

_Amid these circumstances Lord Naizen-no-jo perceived that there was a good opportunity to find a husband for his daughter Princess Aya. After a time the second son of the Lord of Ako, of Harima Province, was selected, to the satisfaction of both fathers, the affair having little to do with the principals. Lord Ako's second son had viewed his bride with approval, and she him, but only because she was bound to love him by her father's will. _

Rising from the table, the feudal lord tenderly stroked his long, horse-hair beard, nodding his head with delight. His mouth craned open, and the narrator changed his voice to that of a wise old man.

"_Daughter, my beautiful Aya, you will bring happiness to your father in two weeks hence! Come, and let the seamstress sew for you a gown worthy for this occasion!" _

With a manipulated stirring of her head, the princess sadly lowered her gaze away from her father. The scenery onstage changed, the table being lifted and removed by more "invisible" stage technicians. In its place they hauled a prop the replicated the look of a wading pool, complete with a thin layer of near translucent silk meant to represent water.

_Princess Aya made her mind up to try and love her prospective husband. She saw nothing of him; but she thought of him, and talked of him. _

_One evening when Princess Aya was walking in the magnificent gardens by the moonlight, accompanied by her maids-in-waiting, she wandered down through her favorite flower bed to the pond where she loved to gaze at her reflection on the nights of the full moon, to listen to frogs. Two of her maidens were hosting a concert for her, and the sounds of their flute and shamisen filled the night sky. _

Slowly and carefully, so as to not cause a disaster, small globes descended from the rafters above. Unseen stagehands used a minor fire jutsu so that the glass containers glowed faintly, and then swayed them back and forth, duplicating the aimless flitting of fireflies.

_When nearing the pond her foot slipped, and she would have fallen into the water…_

The shamisen player struck an errant chord, simulating the tension the princess surely must have felt as her body nearly plunged over the false rocks. On the edge of her seat, Hyun-su was now captivated by the story. She felt herself reminded of that day in the Konoha streets when she had tripped, but quickly dashed the recollection…her rescuer had jilted her for reasons she wasn't sure she'd believe.

… _had it not been that a young man appeared as if by magic and caught her. _

A new puppet appeared, unwrapped from a black sheet. He scooped the princess from midair and placed her gently back on the ground. There was an unquestionable fondness to his actions, even if they were being generated by skilled puppeteers. He touched the princess' pale face and then vanished back underneath the blanket.

_He disappeared as soon as he had put her on her feet again. _

_The maids-of-honor saw her slip; they saw a glimmer of light, and that was all. But Princess Aya had seen more. She had seen the handsomest young man she could imagine. _

_"Twenty-one years old,"_ the narrator switched his tone yet again to match that of a young woman_, "he must have been - a samurai of the highest order. His dress was covered with my favorite flowers, and his swords were richly mounted. Oh that I could have seen him a minute longer, to thank him for saving me from the water! Who can he be? And how could he have got into our gardens, through all the guards?" _

_So spoke the princess to her maids, directing them at the same time that they were to say a word to no one, for fear that her father should hear, find the young man, and behead him for trespass. _

Once more the props reverting back to the original set up of the decorated palace. Lying on the floor was the princess, and Hyun-su gasped slightly when she saw that her usually complex movements had reduced to a prone, almost pained silence. The princess' father and several others had swarmed around her. Some had their heads bent in prayer, the feudal lord himself appeared to be stricken with tears of grief.

_After this evening Princess Aya fell sick. She could not eat or sleep, and turned pale. The day for her marriage with the young Lord of Ako came and went without the event; she was far too sick for that. The best of the doctors had been sent from Kyoto, which was then the capital; but none of them had been able to do anything, and the maid grew thinner and thinner. _

_As a last resource, the Lord Naizen-no-jo, her father, sent for her most confidential maid and friend, Sadayo, and demanded if she could give any reason for his daughter's mysterious sickness. Had she a secret lover?_

The maid and the lord moved off the side, speaking to each other behind the discretion of a byobu. Only their silhouettes were visible now, cast onto the paper screen by the light of two tall candles.

"_My lord," _said Sadayo, speaking with alarm, "_I do not like to keep secrets, but it seems as though my duty to the princess must cause my lips to part. Not even two nights ago, she stumbled and nearly fell into the water, when a strange thing happened. In an instant a most beautiful young samurai appeared and helped her up, thus preventing her from falling into the pond. We could all see the glimmer of him; but your daughter and I saw him most distinctly. Before your daughter could thank him he had disappeared. None of us could understand how it was possible for a man to get into the gardens of the princess, for the gates of the castle are guarded on all sides, and the princess's garden is so much better guarded than the rest that it seems truly incredible that a man could get in. We maids were asked to say nothing for fear of your lordship's anger. Since that evening it is that our beloved princess Aya has been sick, sir. It is sickness of the heart. She is deeply in love with the young samurai she saw for so brief a space. Indeed, my lord, there never was such a handsome man in the world before, and if we cannot find him the young princess, I fear, will die."_

The feudal lord's profile turned away from the maid, as if he could not understand his daughter's plight.

"_I have a plan. I will have my most trusted guard, the strong veteran Hiogo, stand by the pool and when this samurai appears, he will be captured and brought forth to us."_

_And so, after much preparation, the trap was ready. Music seemed to have a fascination for the young samurai. It was while music was being played that he had made his first appearance to Princess Aya._

The stage went dark for a moment. When the lights returned, the outdoor staging had as well, though this time with notably more puppets and trees for which to use for cover. A larger puppet, that of the lord's trusted guard, lay dormant behind one that was closest to the wading pool.

_All gazed eagerly towards the peony beds. As the ladies played a piece called "Sofuren," there, sure enough, arose the figure of a young samurai, dressed magnificently in clothes which were covered with embroidered peonies. _

_Everyone gazed at him, and wondered why Hiogo did not jump up and catch him. The fact was that Hiogo was so much astonished by the noble bearing of the youth that at first he did not want to touch him. Recovering himself, and thinking of his duty to his lord, he stealthily approached the young man, and, seizing him round the waist, held him tight. _

Both puppets struggled with one another, neither one gaining the upper hand. The frenzied bout was made even more believable by the disjointed melodies from the shamisen and the hurried, almost frantic narration by the chanter.

_Everyone had seen the scuffle, and some of the guards came hurrying to the place. Just as they reached the spot Hiogo came to his senses, and shouted "Come, gentlemen! I have caught him. Come and see!" But on looking at what he held in his arms he discovered it to be only a large blossom! _

Hyun-su fought to contain the gasp that so desperately wanted to be heard. The samurai had indeed vanished, and within the wooden arms of Hiogo was a large replica of the exact flower she wore around her neck. Her fingers flew to it, felt the cold silver surface as a wave of astonishment rose within her.

_All were astounded and mystified except the lord himself, who said "Ah! It is as I said. No fox or badger spirit could pass our guards and get into this garden. It is the spirit of the flower that took the form of a prince." Turning to his daughter and her maids, he said, "You must take this a compliment, and pay great respect to the blossom, and show the one caught by Hiogo kindness as well by taking care of it." _

_The Princess Aya carried the flower back to her room, where she put it in a vase of water and placed it near her pillow. She felt as if she had her sweetheart with her. Day by day she got better. She tended the flower herself, and, strange to say, it seemed to get stronger and stronger, instead of fading. At last the princess recovered. She became radiantly beautiful, while the blossom continued to remain in perfect bloom, showing no sign of dying. _

The music slowly became less apprehensive, easing into a more peaceful tune. Changing with the song, the princess herself appeared to transform as she tended the pink flower. A newer, even more lavish gown was slipped over her current one, and her movements were once more energetic and full of life. Suddenly, a flash of light sprouted from the vase, and the samurai seemed to spill out from the water. His twin katana gleaned like fire, and the flowers on his robes were so lifelike one could nearly smell the perfume rolling from them.

_At last, her samurai appeared to her once more! Though bound by her duty to the feudal lord, the princess could no longer find herself in a loveless marriage. She pleaded for his acceptance of the samurai, and he saw in her eyes that she was hopelessly in love. He soon blessed her to be married, not to the son of the Lord of Ako, but to the honorable samurai of flowers._

A grand celebration opened up on the stage, complete with strands of multicolored paper trailing out of the sky towards the married couple. They were joined by a throng of followers who carried them off the stage to the acclamation of all.

When the lights came back on, most in the audience clapped, exuberantly so, but those that did not applause shared a look of general confusion. They were older than most of the other patrons, and were quick to leave the theatre, mumbling about how they would not be supporting the venue in the future.

Hyun-su did not understand their disappointed reaction; the ending had been so happy, so unexpected. In most folktales, it was more likely one of the lovers, if not both, to somehow end up killing each other, accidentally fall in love with an animal, or wind up going crazy. To actually have both the princess and the samurai still be living _and_ end up getting hitched was practically an anomaly.

"That's not the way it's supposed to end," Temari said, and Hyun-su had to wonder if she'd read her mind. The sand kunoichi looked up at the stage curiously, at the remaining puppeteers on stage, and then closed her eyes, smiling. "In the normal version, the flower dies because Princess Aya ends up marrying the son. This story is told to all the children in Sunagakure."

"Then why change it?" Hyun-su asked softly.

Shikamaru shook his head and spoke for the first time since the play had started. "Probably because they figure people need a happy ending, they the last thing they need is more depression added to their lives." He followed where Temari's eyes had previously been looking. The stage and theatre were now empty for the most part, save a few stragglers from the audience. If Kankuro had meant to arrive fashionably late to the show, he had succeeded in giving the phrase an utterly new meaning. "Look, I'm sorry…"

Hyun-su waved her hand, dismissing his apology as unnecessary. "The main thing is that at least someone showed up. I wouldn't have wanted to be here alone."

Alone. She'd said it so impassively, but just hearing the word dredged up a surge of rage and despair from a place she feared to go. She could almost choke at the unfairness of it all. She didn't have any high aspirations for herself. She wasn't asking for the world, wasn't asking for much at all. All she ever wanted out of life was someone to be there for her, be there when she needed some comfort, and yet that seemed to be the one thing that life was determined to deny her.

She felt tears beginning to form in her eyes once more. Temari paused and took a deep breath. "We'll take you back to the Hokage's palace. I don't think it's a good idea to wait here any longer."

Hyun-su wiped her had across her eyes, the whites now red as well, and answered tiredly. "No, I want to stay here for just a little longer. You guys go enjoy the rest of your evening. I'm sorry this was such a waste of your time."

The couple nodded back, wondering if this was the best choice. It seemed unlikely that they would be able to convince Hyun-su otherwise. They laced hands and walked away from her. After a few seconds, she saw them disappear out of the theatre.

_They are so in love with one another_. She envied them, how they didn't need the pomp and circumstance in order to show how unequivocally they cared for each other. A simple gesture, a touching of their hands, a smile shared for a moment. That was all it took. That was how it should be. It frustrated her that Kankuro had led her to believe they'd be having a grandiose date. If her expectations hadn't been set so high, then the consequential let-down wouldn't be so immense.

The creaking noise was faint. It came from about fifteen feet away from where Hyun-su was. Turning to face it, she realized the source was somewhere backstage.

She sauntered to a door quietly, shinobi instincts kicking in. She lacked her normal battle garments, but none of what she wore restricted her movements from being silent. And it was nice for a change to not have to worry about her breasts popping out from underneath her shirt…

The noise came a second time, this time it was louder. She opened the door with a deft push, worried that the hinges might be rusted, but it budged without a squeak. Soon Hyun-su was in an entirely different area of the theatre, a short hallway lined on both sides with more doors. She tried to convince herself that checking behind all the doors would be a waste of time, that looking for the ghost of a memory would only bring more misfortune.

She was already opening the first door before she even realized it. This time she did not try to hide her presence and swung it open hastily.

It was vacant with the exception for the star puppets, dangling off the wall. They stared at her through wooden eyes eerily. It didn't take much more than that to leave the room.

"Let's see what's behind door number two…" she mumbled, and then stepped into the next room. Her frown deepened to find this room even emptier than the last. A moth or two drifted around a lone candle.

This went on for three more tries, until at last her hand came to rest on the final door. She wasn't sure what she wanted to see. Another empty room meant that she would have closure, anything else…she just wasn't sure. She involuntarily bit her lips, and then twisted the doorknob.

A hand slid its way down her back just as she was about to push. Soft lips caressed her exposed nape, working their way down to the top of her spine. Slowly, a tongue began to slide over each vertebrae, and Hyun-su smiled with pleasure.

"You're late," Hyun-su said huskily. She did not turn to face the man behind her. She wanted this to last as long as humanly possible.

Kankuro moved his hands lower, touching the soft fabric of her shirt. He murmured into her skin, "I like to make a grand entrance. Besides, I have been here the entire time, you've just been looking in all the wrong places."

"How? What?" Hyun-su said in between gasps. "Why didn't you come meet us like you said you would?"

The man purred, glad to see Hyun-su's body react so acutely to his touches. "But if I was sitting in the audience, who would be controlling the princess? Who else could give her the grace she needs."

Hyun-su finally turned, and found the puppeteer looking more serious than she'd ever seen him. For a moment she didn't know what to make of him. Did he really expect her to believe what he was telling her?

"Who better to lend a hand when I have so much…inspiration for beauty," he smelled her hair and then pulled the two tufts of hair Sakura out from behind her ears. They fell down her shoulders. He kissed the soft strands lovingly. "I'll remember you this way."

Hyun-su noticed that his face was moving closer to hers. She moved away, not out of fear or dislike, for there was a look in her eye that caused Kankuro to follow.

Thankfully the sixth room did not have any puppets in it, but several pieces of furniture. It was a lounge for the puppeteers to relax in before the show. For Kankuro and Hyun-su, there would be no relaxing in store for them. Their lips met as soon as they were both inside. A little voice in the back of Hyun-su's mind was telling her to pull back, to slow this down before it was too late, before she did something she'd regret; Gaara's warning made a reappearance in her mind. The way his lips pressed against hers now, the way he was crushing her body against his own, made it clear things were rapidly progressing beyond just a simple kiss. She could tell the need was rising inside him, just like it was rising inside herself.

Slowly she felt herself sinking back, down onto a couch, with Kankuro on top of her. He was breathing rapidly now, and so indeed was she, if she had stopped to notice. His face came up and their lips met again. This time there was nothing dainty about it. He pressed his lips against hers as if consumed by them, as if suffering from an ever growing need, a need that could not possibly be satiated. His hands moved through her hair, along her back, down her neck, almost as if he were kissing her with his caress as well as his lips.

"Hyun-su, tell me…tell me you need me," Kankuro asked her softly. There was no denying the emotions that he felt for Hyun-su, but he had to hear it from her mouth.

"I…" she paused, half drunk with passion that speaking was almost a struggle. "I need you…I want you…"

He finally had all the permission he needed. This was not like the time in Kurori. He would not allow this to become an act of lust. He wanted her, he wanted her with a burning, all consuming desire that left him shaken, breathless, with its intensity. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything in his entire life. His hand moved to the front of her blouse, and began to liberate the row of buttons from their binding. At the same time, Hyun-su began to tear off his puppeteer's uniform. She fumbled awkwardly, the cloth slipping from between her mismatched hands. She finally found her way past the top ties of his shirt and scratched the skin underneath; his purrs escalated into fervent growling.

The last button on her blouse fell open, and Kankuro's hand slid slowly along the exposed flesh. She was so soft, so warm. He paused, looking down at her, and saw the pink scar on her chest.

"I'm sorry," she said, the pain plain in her voice. She brought her hands up, crossing them in front of her, covering it.

He looked down at her, silent for a moment.

His hand reached up, clasping hers. Slowly he pulled her wrists down. She resisted for a moment, then relented, revealing the scar again.

"You don't need to hide anything from me, you're beautiful," he said, shaking his head at Hyun-su's rarely seen shyness.

She stared at him for a moment. She said nothing but her hands fell to her sides. He ran his own hand along her torso, and around her back, showing no hesitation like the kind she had seem from the men who had been bothered by her old injury. Reassured, she lifted her hands and started to pull off his black jacket. He waited impatiently for her to finish, for her hands to move out of the way so he could feel her lips against his own once more. It was only a few seconds, but the time seemed interminable.

Hyun-su stared hungrily at his naked chest, at the tight, firm muscles beneath supple skin. Her fingers were instantly on him, attacking him with her need. She delighted at how warm his skin had become.

Pressing close to her again, he kissed her once more. At the same time he reached around behind her and, pinching his fingers together, liberated her from the last garment that covered her upper body. He pushed it aside. At this point, clothing was nothing more than an obstacle, a barrier separating them, no matter how flimsy it might be. Nothing would satisfy them now except flesh against flesh, the feel of their bodies together, with nothing intervening, nothing getting in the way.

His head dropped again, kissing her newly exposed flesh. Both of them were afire with passion now, both of them flushed with the excitement of what was to come, yet dragging out the sweet anticipation until it was nearly unbearable, until they were in a frenzy to have one another.

His hands ran over her body hungrily now, greedily. Kankuro reached down and ran his long fingers along her thigh, then to the top of her pants. With a flick they came undone, and he slid down, eagerly seeking what lay beneath. His hand gently caressed the thin cotton that she still wore and for the first time a soft moan escaped her lips, so restrained that he barely heard it.

Her mouth, her lips, sought his, more eagerly than ever. They pressed their lips together as if to fuse themselves into one. He grasped the waistband of her pants and slid it and the garment beneath down her thighs, over her knees and past her ankles to finally fall by the side of the bed, tossed aside like some unwanted afterthought, leaving her lying underneath him unclothed, completely exposed.

He lifted himself up again, his hands moving to the top of his pants, jerking it open with hurried fingers, fingers that couldn't move fast enough to satisfy his need for her, to remove the last barrier between them. As he did so he looked at her, lying there beneath him, and his breath caught in his throat at her beauty. He had been with many women, but he'd never seen anyone who compared with her. There were no words to describe it. It was barely comprehensible.

He removed the last of his own garments, tossing them aside just as he had hers. They were clothed now only in the warmth of one another, and that was more than enough for both of them.

She lifted up her knees and parted her legs, leaving him room to lower himself down upon her. For just a moment he hesitated, still soaking up her beauty, still giddy to think this was actually happening, before accepting her invitation. He heard the sudden intake of her breath as he entered her.

He stopped, looking down at her. It dawned on him that perhaps her body wasn't prepared or healed enough for this.

"Am I hurting you?"

She shook her head.

"No," she said softly. "No. Go on."

She knew there was no turning back now, but then again, it had probably been too late long before this point. It didn't matter, she had no intention of changing her mind now. For better or worse she was committed to this course. Slowly they began to move together in a rhythm that was as old as mankind.

He had never imagined her being so passive. Had never seen her this way before. The last time they'd been like this, she'd been an aggressive animal, in fact, he had enjoyed that, but he felt now that this was just right for her. He looked down at her, into her eyes and he almost had to turn away. Those eyes, those beautiful red eyes that had terrified him before, were gazing at him so openly, so innocently. He was reminded of a rare exquisite figurine, so perfectly wrought and yet so incredibly fragile. He had never thought of her as a particularly delicate girl. In fact in their previous meetings he had been struck, quite literally on occasion, mostly by her strength and her fiery spirit. Yet now the look in her eyes was so... trusting, that he could hardly stand it. It was like not just her body but her soul was bare in front of him. She was letting him in, giving him access to everything she was and trusting him not to shatter that. He had never seen a woman look at him in such a way.

It was funny. He'd gotten exactly what he wanted. What he wanted from any woman. It wasn't like him to question a female's motives. The mere fact that she agreed to go to bed with him was usually more than enough to satisfy him. Still, surprisingly, questioning Hyun-su's oftentimes puzzling motives was exactly what he found himself doing. He couldn't help but wonder why she was going along with this, and to speculate that it was out of gratitude. Was she doing it because she felt obligated or because there was something more, that there was a bond between them that neither of them really understood. Ordinarily he wouldn't care, the why of it wouldn't make any difference to him, yet with her, for some reason, it mattered, it mattered to him a great deal.

Now that it was real, that it was actually happening the full weight of what they were doing made itself felt to Hyun-su. She couldn't really explain either then or afterward exactly what had made her go along with it. She was just following some instinct, some basic instinct so old that it predated almost all other emotion. It didn't come from her head, that was for sure. It came from somewhere deeper than she'd ever traveled before.

However, at the moment, the deep down inside of her was rapidly getting lost within the here and now. As their bodies continued to move together, building up to some unknown but much anticipated crescendo all thoughts flittered away from her mind, and she just concentrated on feeling, on feeling the emotion and ecstasy that was ever so slowly welling up inside of her. She didn't care about tomorrow anymore, or even what would happen this very night, after this was over. She didn't think about that. Right now was all that was important, lying there with this man, sharing the warmth and the feel of each other, giving something to each other that only a man and a woman could give.

She moaned again, feeling the warmth rapidly growing inside of her, the feel of his body pressing against hers. They were both breathing heavily now, their body's slick with moisture yet even that was somehow stimulating. Kankuro's hands roved freely over her body, his kisses furiously needy, falling like rain upon her lips, her chin, her neck, his own lips drinking hers up, as if trying to fill himself with her essence. Her hands ran up along his back, pulling him closer to her, even though they were already pressed against one another.

Something was happening to her. Their movements had increased to an almost frenzied pace, taking on an almost desperate quality. She couldn't think coherently anymore. Time, space, everything outside of themselves seemed to have disappeared. The only thing real to her now was Kankuro's body on top of her and the feeling that was building up inside her, building up so rapidly and furiously that she felt that she would soon burst apart. It had been growing for some time, slowly at first, but now it could no longer be ignored. In fact, the feeling was rapidly filling her entire being. Like floodwaters rushing down a narrow ravine, suddenly bursting forth upon the unsuspecting town in its path. But that was not a proper analogy, for a flood brought pain and horror and loss, but there was none of that here. No, it was just the opposite, in fact. The feeling that welled up in her now was of sheer ecstasy, of a pleasure so intense, so all consuming, as to be almost inconceivable.

She thought she cried out. Maybe more than once. She wasn't sure. Afterwards she couldn't seem to remember the exact sequence of events. It all sort of blurred together in her mind. She remembered grasping Kankuro by his shoulders, digging into his skin with her nails with all her might, as if the touch of their flesh was somehow not close enough, as if she wanted to be closer to him than was humanly possible, her body arching upward, and all the while her mind nearly bursting with wave after wave of unbearable pleasure, a pleasure so overwhelming as to be almost painful. An agony of bliss, an agony that she never wanted to stop.

And then, suddenly, it faded away. She found herself falling back onto the couch, panting in exhaustion, to find that Kankuro had collapsed on top of her, his passion spent simultaneously with hers. For a long time they just lay there, recovering from an experience neither one of them would ever be able to properly describe.

His hands, no longer charged with his ferocious need, lingered towards the piece of jewelry around Hyun-su's sweaty neck. The tip of his fingernail touched it, and he smiled warmly.

"I see my flowers made quite the impact on you," he said.

"A lot of things have made quite the impact lately," Hyun-su answered suggestively, though not even if she wanted to could she possibly go another round. She returned Kankuro's tender smile and said, "They were lovely, but I much more enjoyed the letter."

"Hmmm," Kankuro purred again. "I'm glad you found it, and that you found me."

He meant more than their rendezvous backstage.

"I am, too, Kankuro," she responded, wrapping her arms around his body, trying to soak up every last degree of his warmth. "I…I heard that you were leaving soon."

Kankuro's eyes widened. When had she found out that little gem?

"Is it true?" she continued, nuzzling into his chest.

He set his jaw, not sure where to start. "I can't be here forever, I have my duties to Sunagakure, to my brother."

She'd known the truth before he'd said it, but hearing it from his lips made it that much more real. She nodded her head, understanding his reasoning.

"Hyun-su…" His voice was barely a whisper. He turned Hyun-su's face towards his. Once more, he was breathless at how vulnerable the girl could seem, how much faith she was putting in him to do the right thing.

The right thing. Why couldn't it be so easy?

Mind set straight, Kankuro suddenly stood up from the couch. Their bodies instantly felt cold from the separation, as if they now needed each other to feel normal. Hyun-su looked at him confusedly, even more so when he turned away. What was happening?

"I will be leaving, it's true." He fought to soften his voice, remove it of all fear. "But…I don't know if being together, is the best thing."

She didn't know how to reply. She wanted to tell him he was full of shit, but... but he looked so somber. She didn't want to make light of it if he was serious. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. Instead, she drew away from him, suddenly feeling much too naked. She stared at him, feeling a stab of anguish tear through her gut at his words. "You can't mean that. I won't believe that you just had sex with me, only to throw me to the side. That's just a bunch of macho bullshit…"

He couldn't look at her, lying there unclad in front of him. Even now, after what they had just shared, he could feel his passion rising again merely by seeing her so. If he let his eyes linger on Hyun-su for more than a moment, at her perfect lips and sloping curves, he was afraid he would wrap her in his arms again, pull her to him just as they had been before. But Kankuro couldn't do that now. He couldn't let himself. He had to sort this out, had to come to terms with just what he was feeling. He'd never be able to think straight with her beside him, tempting him so, even unintentionally.

"So, this is it, this is how the noble Kankuro of Sunagakure gets his way? He blows his load and then scurries off like some little bitch?" Hyun-su spate; even through her stifling hot anger she could sense the walls around crumbling down. "You're disgusting."

"Hyun-su, please…I don't want to do this…"

"Then don't, be a man and realize that you can't live without me," she burst back, "Realize that I can't live…without you."

"Why?" he shouted, so loudly that it made her cringe backwards. "Why do you think I can be the one for you? Why do you think I'm good enough for you anyway?"

He spun around, revealing bloodshot eyes drenched with tears. Again, Hyun-su was taken aback. She had no idea he'd felt that way about her.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. Sorry that I let you get so close, sorry that I allowed you to be hurt so many times! I can't help but shake the feeling that being around me is only going to get you killed, Hyun-su…if you get hurt one more time from one of my fuck-ups, I swear I'm going to go insane!"

It was Hyun-su's turn to shout. "Kankuro, you can't keep trying to take the blame for all of this!" She got up from her spot on the couch and flung her arms around Kankuro as tight as she possibly could. "I'm willing to take the risk as long as I can be with you."

"But I'm not willing to put you in danger," he answered, his voice soft and exhausted. He looked up into her eyes, so furious and fed-up, yet her look was so open and honest that he almost had to turn away once more. How could she be like this? How could she have such hope, after all that had happened to her? How could she believe in him like that when he didn't even believe in himself? At the end of the day, he was just some washed-up shinobi who couldn't protect one little boy named Tsuneo and now one little girl named Hyun-su.

He lifted a hand and ran it gently along her cheek. He wanted to do more, wanted to grab hold of her and hold her, hold her tight and never let her go, wanted to run his hands through her hair and hold her own hand in his. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't let himself. He shouldn't be touching her at all. He didn't deserve to.

That's what his mind was telling him.

"I would do anything to make you see how much…how much I love you."

Kankuro's heart stopped beating. His mouth dropped open at her bold-faced confession, so far that he could almost taste the carpet he was standing on.

His mind all of a sudden didn't seem like such good thing to be listening to.

Hyun-su squeezed him again. "You're not leaving this town without me, and I'm not taking no for an answer."

Kankuro ruffled the top of her head, feeling rather stupid for trying to act so brave and gallant. He should have known better than to tell Hyun-su what was best for her. "No, I suppose you never would."


End file.
